Circle of Friends
by alaricnomad
Summary: AU. Adulthood isn't always what you expected. Best friends Lucas and Peyton know this better than anyone. Leyton, implications or mentions of Naley, Brucas, Jeyton, and Brathan. COMPLETED.
1. Chapter 1: A Familiar Stranger

**Circle of Friends**

By Alaricnomad

**Part One: Familiar Stranger**

_Atlanta, GA- 2013_

Peyton Sawyer sat on the living room couch in the small house she lived in, a cup of cocoa held tightly in her chilled fingers. Outside, a storm raged, full of howling winds and rain pelting against the windows. She pressed his fingers against his temples, sighing. She had barely managed to get her four-year-old, Alex, to sleep an hour before, the young boy having come down with a bad chest cold. He was in the final stages, Thank God, and according to the doctor would need nothing more than rest.

Wrapping the blanket tighter around herself, Peyton allowed her head to fall back against the couch cushion, her eyes closing in the aftermath of a long day, as outside the storm raged on. She had to admit, when she was younger thinking about life a few years down the road, single motherhood hadn't exactly been the first on her list…but at the same time, she wouldn't trade her precious boy for anything.

A sharp rapping at the front door broke through her reflections, and she reluctantly left the warmth of her couch cocoon. Mumbling under her breath about the audacity of inconsiderate unknowns dared to pound on her door at nearly midnight, she swung open the door, and her irritated expectation immediately changed- not at all unpleasant surprise.

The figure was definitely no stranger. Drenched to the bone, the wet clothing stuck as close as a second skin to a slim, muscular body, just as trim and fit as ten years ago in the prime of his athleticism. Hands buried deep into the pockets of his leather jacket, he shifted his weight from foot to foot as he cautiously looked up at Peyton. Blonde hair plastered to his head by the rain, droplets ran in tiny rivulets down his face, and blue eyes glanced up at her, his rugged face breaking out into a sheepish smile.

Though she tried her best to look chastising, something about the way a twenty-eight year old man could pull off a puppy dog-like innocence was just too much, and she rolled her eyes, stepping back out of the entrance to let him pass through. His eyes filled with relief and he grinned at her, dripping as he entered the house and Peyton sealed the door shut behind him.

She motioned for him to wait a minute and his gaze followed her form as she disappeared down the hallway, shifting away after she disappeared from his sight to look lazily around the room, taking in his surroundings. The room was more than familiar; he was far from a stranger to this home, but there was something especially inviting about the atmosphere that night that had the tension in him easing, dissipating into a contentment he could rarely muster anywhere else.

Perhaps it was that sense of familiarity; perhaps it was the warmth enveloping the small room. It may have been the sight of Peyton's artwork hanging alongside picture frames presenting her and Alex alongside friends and family- himself included- in various poses, or the familiar smell to the place. Whatever it was, he found himself far too tired to feel guilty about the warm feeling that welled up inside him- it felt like coming home.

A hand on his shoulder alerted him to Peyton's returned presence, and she eyed him wryly before tossing a towel at his head. It flopped over his face, obscuring his vision, and he peeked up at her over the material as she smiled at him, shaking her head with an expression of fond exasperation.

"Your impersonation of a drowned rat is going to ruin my carpet, Scott."

"If you're going to complain about it, I'll call the cleaner's in the morning," he replied dryly, stepping out of his soaked shoes and wrapping the towel around his shoulders, chilled now despite the heat of the room. Her lips pursed into a frown, as she examined him from the couch, and then settling into some decision as she motioned him down the hallway. "If you want, there're some clothes you can change into in my room. Third drawer down in the bureau, you remember?"

"Yeah." Starting off to do as she said, he stopped, looking back at her with a sudden thought. "Whose clothes? Jake's?"

She met his gaze, saw something in his eyes she didn't quite understand, and could only feel bewilderment. "No, yours. You're over here enough." Why would he ask something like that? She and Jake had been over for years; he knew that better than anyone.

Lucas turned away, uncomfortably knowing of the vague coils of jealousy lingering in his mind, nodding to her as he passed. He walked down the hallway toward her bedroom, conscious of the sleeping boy in the room next door. He stepped into the room, smiling softly at being surrounded by something so completely Peyton, finding the object of his search immediately.

He stripped out of his wet clothes, slipped into an old Ravens sweatshirt and a pair of old jeans, pausing for a moment to look down at the neatly folded clothes lingering in the drawer. A few of his tee-shirts, a pair of jeans and a sweater or two, socks and boxer shorts, even a scarf his mother had given him the previous Christmas- one he wore infrequently so not to offend his wife with the expensive silk scarf she had presented him with on his preceding birthday.

Toweling off his hair, he closed the drawer and returned to the living room, finding Peyton occupied on the sofa, wrapped up in an afghan as she hovered over paperwork spread over the coffee table. He slid the used towel over the back of a chair as he passed, moving to sit beside her.

Out of unconscious habit, without taking her eyes off her work, she closed the few inches between them, her leg pressing against his, the two of them hip to hip. Lucas shifted as well, his arm brushing against her shoulders as he draped it along the back of the couch. She absently acknowledged the touch, briefly settling her hand over his before letting it fall back into her lap, their fingertips grazing in a lingering touch that bespoke of intimacy forged with twelve years of close association.

Peyton leaned against his side, still reading, fitting seamlessly into the circle of his arm. He sighed, leaning back to relax against the sofa cushion, his eyes closing as they sat together in a contented silence. Feeling somewhat mischievous, he lazily opened one eye to regard her lounging silhouette, shifting his position to fold his legs beneath him, sliding them under the blanket Peyton was using.

As his bare feet, cold as ice, curled around her calves, Peyton yelped and jumped slightly, staring at him with startled eyes as she pulled up the blanket to reveal the source of her sudden discomfort. He smirked and she shot him a disgruntled look.

"Ever hear of socks?" she hissed at him, slapping his arm as he laughed softly, still sporting that boyish little grin.

"Why? You're just so warm…" trailing off dramatically, he suddenly grabbed for her, pulling her back tightly against him. He settled her into his lap despite her protests, facing away from him but nestled against his chest as he tucked his feet Indian-style beneath them, trapping her in an encasement of limbs. She stared up at him darkly; Lucas smiled down at her innocently.

"See? Warm."

She was not impressed. "Now I see where Alex gets it, that feigning innocence thing no matter how obvious it is whose at fault," she poked him in the chest with a pointed glare, "freeloaders like you shouldn't spend so much time around my son. You're a bad influence."

"C'mon Peyt," he lightly teased, an underlying tone existing there that neither of them chose to speak of, "Alex loves me."

That had to be the understatement of the century. Alex practically worshipped the very ground Lucas walked on. Almost against her will, she couldn't help but smile. "You're right," she said softly, "He does. There are some days where all he talks about is his Uncle Luke."

There was a look of wistful, longing hope in his eyes that had her heart aching, hesitating as she contemplated the lines between what she could do…and what she longed to do. To kiss him…to really embrace him…it was just hopeless fantasy, she knew, as she settled for taking his hand, the larger palm enveloping hers warm and calloused from years of hard use. "Really?" he asked her tentatively, his voice just barely above a whisper.

"Really. Trust me, he adored you, Luke."

He smiled softly, pressing his lips to her temple as he leaned his head against hers, his brow furrowing as he perfected an expression of mock outrage. "By the way…"

"Hmm?"

"You did _not _just call me a freeloader."

She twisted around to face him, arching an eyebrow. "And what if I did?" she said airily, mimicking his earlier singsong tone as she teased him.

Lucas narrowed his eyes. "I might just have to take revenge."

"You wouldn't dare, Scott."

"Wouldn't I?"

Peyton squealed with surprise as he suddenly whirled her around, digging his fingers into her ribs as he tickled her. His body leaned over her, his face animated with boyish glee as she collapsed in helpless laughter, begging him to stop with bated breath between giggles.

Lucas didn't let up, pressing her back against the couch as he continued. Peyton writhed and squirmed beneath him, dragging her nails down his neck, tugging at his hair, threatening him between bouts of laughter, but still he did not let her go.

Slender legs locked around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back as she used her new hold on him as leverage, arching up against him in an attempt to throw him off. Lucas barely budged, but he did pause, a strangled sound escaping his throat, his hands dropping to either side of them, sinking into the sofa cushions, as he adjusted to the new position, his body pressing intimately close to Peyton's as he gazed down at her, his smile gone and the room quiet but for the sound of their ragged breathing.

"You play dirty," he muttered, the husky whisper carrying through the quiet room despite the softness of his tone, the intensity underlying the simple statement unmistakable.

She swallowed hard, his proximity intoxicating as he rested his head against the crook of her neck, breathing hard, his lips just barely brushing against her clavicle with every exhalation. Feeling foolishly brave, she ran her hands down his back, feeling the heat radiating off of him beneath the material of his sweatshirt, the muscles quivering with tension beneath her touch.

They couldn't…they couldn't…they couldn't…but temptation was at its highest pinnacle, and it was so damn hard to resist. In the end…in the end…there was something worth fighting for…his fidelity, and both their honor.

Moving her arms upward, she linked them around his neck, tangling her fingers through his hair as she pressed a chaste kiss the corner of his mouth, smoothing her cheek against his, feeling the light scratch of five o'clock shadow against her skin. She spoke quietly in his ear, a simple whisper of his name, "Luke."

Lucas let out a heavy sigh and then seemed to relax against her, his arms embracing her as he shifted his position. His hands supportive at her waist, Peyton came willingly as he turned over onto his back, settling over him, pressing her head to his chest, feeling the strong tempo of his heartbeat reverberate against her ear.

"By the way…" he stated suddenly, softly trailing off.

"Hmm?"

"It doesn't quite count as freeloading when you open your door to me more than willingly every time."

"Touché. Whatever you say, Scott," she conceded, idly running her fingers down the arm around her. "Speaking of which, what happened this time?"

There was a short pause before he finally answered, followed by a derisive snort. "We fought again. What else is new?"

"What about?"

"David."

Instantly recognizing the name of he and Brooke's son, her head perked up, glancing at him with a befuddled expression. She had a feeling this was going to be far from pretty.


	2. Chapter 2: ComeHither and Retreat

**Circle of Friends**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Two: Come-Hither and Retreat**

_Lucas was always the embodiment of temptation in my life- from the time we hit puberty, he had this allure to him, beautiful in his masculinity and powerful in his charisma. Best friends from the time boys had cooties- when he still delighted in placing bugs in my hair- and still, I couldn't help but be drawn to him. Little was I to know he felt the same. _

- Peyton Sawyer, commentary on her life influences in a June 2014 interview

Tree Hill, North Carolina- 2003

The heat was stifling, heavy and overbearing as fourteen-year-old Peyton Sawyer stepped out onto the porch extending from her family's home. She stared miserably at the nearby trees lining the remains an old forest; hoping in vain to see them sway at the will of any kind of breeze.

She sighed regretfully as the air stayed muggy and still as before, turning back toward the house in retreat, only to be thrown off balance as she tripped over something lying at the top of the stairs. She caught herself before she fell; glancing back over her shoulder to see what blocked her way. "Lucas!"

Lying languorously before the descending steps, Lucas gave no sign she had heard him, nor even an indication to acknowledge her presence, but the more she watched him dozing in the sunlight, the quicker her irritation faded into fascination. Any girl would have to be blind and dead not to be aware of him, gorgeous as he was.

At eighteen, he was one to exude a bad-boy image, handsome with a strong, rugged quality. The look was complimented by the faded blue jeans he wore, torn at the knee, molding to strong legs, and a dark wife-beater fitting to a finely toned torso.

A golden-stud earring glittered at his right ear in the same sun dancing highlights in his blond-brown hair, tousled bangs falling in his eyes, face scruffy as ever with faint beard shadow.

He was a stunner, no doubt, but good looks tended to be pushed to the back of her mind in instances like what happened next. He shifted under her scrutiny, lazily opening one blue eye to look at her. "You should watch where you're going. Clumsy girl, tripping over your own feet."

"I did not trip over my own feet! It was your lazy ass I tripped over!"

He shrugged broad shoulders, closing his eyes again as a smug smile touching his lips. Peyton rolled her eyes, knowing it was futile to argue against his stubborn, hard-headed nature. The heat bearing down on them, she surrendered entirely, flopping down beside him.

Lucas watched her out of the corner of his eye as they sat together in a companionable silence, smiled softly. His gaze was appreciative, eyes skimming over long, slim legs stretched out in front of her, leading up to a pair of denim cut-offs and a white tank-top leaving little to the imagination, clinging to the softly-formed curves and the swells of her breasts.

She was an attractive girl, holding a soft, open sort of beauty that had him certain in a few years; she'd grow into a maturity capable of blowing any other woman out of the water. Curly blonde hair that would normally tumble down her back was pulled into a messy bun in the summer heat, leaving a few stray curls to fall coyly in her face. He reached out, brushing one of the rebelling locks out of her eyes, hazel-green gaze warm with affection as she looked at him.

Childhood playmates and long-time friends, they had known each other nearly a full decade, the two years separating them in age doing nothing to hinder the closeness friends and family jokingly referred to as being fused at the hip, for it was rare to see one without the other.

The summer was slowly coming to a close, and despite their proximity of the last nine years, the distance forming between them, at least in her mind, was a strange sensation. He was getting older, bound for university the upcoming year…and she could not help but fear the possibility of watching him leave her behind.

Peyton found herself jolted out of her reflections as he rolled over onto her back, his head landing in her lap. The sudden proximity startled her, throwing her off-guard as his eyes finally fluttered open, their startling ocean-blue hue locking on her. She was mortified to find a blush warming her pallor, finding herself unable to look away from the magnetism of his gaze.

Admitting defeat, she resigned herself to merely smiling at him.

Watching her blush and smile, he couldn't look away. _Cute, _he thought to himself, _Damn beautiful. _Her smile was warm, with a gentle quality, just like everything he loved about her. Her fingers moved to play with his hair, tousling the already disheveled mess.

As they sat there, playful ruffles became light caresses, his eyes slowly closing as he concentrated on the feel of slim fingers running through his hair, and the warmth it brought inside him. Peyton stroked his messy hair, hearing his soft sigh of contentment. "Luke?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you worried about starting school again?"

"Nah. It's my last year, but I can handle it. This year will be a cinch. What about you? You're starting your freshman year."

"Hmm-mm…"

He chuckled, "I bet you'll rule the school before the week's out."

"I highly doubt that."

He had known her long enough to know different tones to her voice, and the thinly veiled inflection he heard this time more than drew his attention. He nudged her hands away to allow him to sit up, his expression full of concern. "What's wrong? Somebody giving you trouble?"

She smiled, the gesture almost involuntary, at the memory of the teasing she received as a child and the scrapes Lucas got himself into coming to her defense. She shook her head, "No, nothing like that."

"Then what was it?"

"You aren't thinking of leaving, are you? Having to go to uni next year?"

"Eh?" Lucas cocked his head curiously in her direction. "What makes you think I'll leave? They're plenty of good schools here."

"I don't know. You're getting older…I'm just not sure…" she reached for his hand, leaning her head against his, "I'm not sure if I'm enough to keep you here anymore."

He smiled, turning his head to touch his forehead to hers. "Peyton. You'll always be enough."

As his breath fanned out against her cheek, Peyton became suddenly, hyper-aware of just how close they were. Touching nearly nose to nose, neither of them made a move to pull away. She raised her eyes to meet his, something she would later come to realize was the second stupidest thing she had done that day. Mesmerized by eyes of blue and the intensity of his handsome face, she did not resist as he kept his gaze locked to hers, carefully placing his hands at her waist and gently pulling her to sit between his legs.

Warm lips brushed over hers, a feather-light caress. She tightened her hold on his hand, their fingers entwining and the caress became a hard press, and the sensation of his tongue skimming across the seam of her lips, parting to admit him entrance.

She welcomed the taste of him, the allure, the kiss deepening as she linked her arms around his neck, and he pulled her even closer, pinning her against the strength of his body. She twisted around to come even closer, straddling his thighs. She moved her hand to cup the back of his head, fingers tangling through the silk of his hair, heady with new sensation.

Her nails scratched against his scalp and Lucas growled low in his throat, fuelled by the heat thrumming through his blood as he slid his hands upward, from her hips, to her waist, to the hem of her shirt…

"Peyton!!"

They broke apart so suddenly, Peyton was sent hurtling backward as she drew away from him. She dug her hands into his thighs to catch her balance, consequently changing her momentum as she came crashing into him. Pressed flush against him, his hands clenched at her waist, Peyton's eyes widening as she felt the blatant evidence of his arousal prodding against her hip.

Albeit, the top of the list of the stupidest things she'd done that day…making out with her guy best friend.

Their eyes met and she found herself blushing furiously, hastily scrambling off her lap. Lucas opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off as Peyton's younger brother, Wyatt, appeared in the doorway leading into the house, staring at them quizzically. "Sis, didn't you hear me calling? Mom said to tell you that dinner's ready. Oh, and Lucas…Mom says you can stay to eat if you want."

"Thank you, Wy," Peyton murmured as she struggled to her feet, Lucas rising to his a little more gracefully. She avoided eye-contact, edging away from him, a gesture that earned a bewildered look from her brother. "Peyton? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Casting Lucas a furtive glance, she pushed past them both and rushing into the house. Lucas's eyes followed her until she disappeared from sight, his attention only diverted as Wyatt nudged him in the arm. "She's acting weird, Luke."

Lucas shrugged, casting one last look in the direction Peyton had gone, remorse filling his visage. "She's always weird, kiddo." He sighed, feeling around in the pockets of his jeans for his keys. "Do me a favor, Wyatt. Tell your mom thanks for the invitation, but I need to get home. Okay?"

"Sure." Staring after the retreating back of his honorary big brother, and pondering the strange behavior of his sister, Wyatt shook his head, left to wonder at the weirdness that was teenagers.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hey."

Sprawled out on his bed, Lucas looked up from his book at the sound of the familiar voice, spotting an awkwardly smiling Peyton standing in his doorway. He raised himself into a sitting position, setting down his novel as he motioned her into his bedroom. "Hey yourself."

"Your mom let me in," she explained softly, tentatively meeting his eyes, biting her lip in a nervous gesture.

He nodded, "Okay."

He watched her thoughtfully as she slowly wandered around the familiar room, perpetually neat and well-kept as always, an aspect of his personality she always found surprising. A large bookcase took up most of the wall opposite of his bed, and she let her fingers trace over the cover bindings, musing over the familiar titles, a mixture of novels and poetry reflecting Lucas's love for literature. Hemingway, Poe, Shakespeare…many, many more…

"What are you reading?"

"Irving," he held up the novel for her perusal, "Cider House Rules. Quirky characterizations…far from you run-of-the-mill storyline. Right up my alley."

"Aaa," she cocked her head in his direction, smiling softly, "Y'know, I can just imagine what everyone at school would think if they saw big, bad-ass Lucas Scott being such a book nerd."

He made a face, childishly sticking his tongue out in her direction. "Yeah, yeah. You do, and I'll pull out those videos your mom has. I'm sure they'd love to see your table-top dancing rendition of Thriller."

"Shut up! I was eight!" She pounced onto the bed, grabbing a pillow to bombard him. Lucsa laughed under the assault as she whacked him a few good ones, clutching at her wrists to pin her down, wrestling the pillow away from her. She squirmed beneath him, squealing with protest as he dug his fingers into her ribs, tickling her.

"Lucas!" giggle, "Lucas!!" giggle, squealing, "Luke, knock it off!!"

He relented, his arms braced on either side of them to keep his weight from crushing her, grinning cheekily down at her. Peyton glared, rolling her eyes at the smirk adorning his face as she splayed her hands against his chest, shoving him off her. Lucas plopped down beside her, propping his head on his elbow to face her.

"Hey, Peyton?"

"Hmm?"

"Are we ever going to talk about it or are you going to keep on avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you," even to her own ears, her words sounded far from convincing.

"Uh-huh. And I'm sure there wouldn't be half a dozen unanswered messages on your phone if I checked, right?"

In an effort to maintain some semblance of dignity, Peyton chose to say nothing at all.

"C'mon, Peyt…" he trailed off, prodding her in the arm to gain her attention, "What are you so freaked out about? It's just me."

"Exactly!! It's us, Lucas!! We don't kiss…Luke…it's just…not us…"

He rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back against his pillow as he eyed her speculatively. "What's the big deal? So, we kissed…though…" he grinned rather wolfishly, "That was a hell of a kiss…"

Peyton started to smile, and then stopped herself, seeming to pale even more than before, heightening his concern. "Peyt, you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine," she spoke softly, not quite meeting his eyes.

His smile faded and he reached out to touch her cheek, only to have her recoil from his hand. He let the appendage drop as if burned, his eyes filling with hurt. "I get it. I scared you, didn't I, the other day?" That must be it, he concluded. God help him, he had practically mauled her, after all, even gotten aroused with her so close. He'd been too intense. She was only fourteen, going on fifteen or not; he had to remind himself, and virgin to boot.

He mentally slapped himself, feeling more like an ass that ever before. "I'm sorry, Peyt," he sighed out his apology, his shoulders slumping with defeat. She took note of his disconcertion, and there was dozens of things she wanted to say. That no, he had far from scared her. He had felt wonderful, his kiss had been wonderful…his touch…and what frightened her was how much she wanted him to do it again.

She could not bring herself to say any of these things. In the end, Lucas ended up beating her to punch. He sighed, staring at her with unreadable eyes. "Look, you're gorgeous, Peyt, and I'm not going to pretend some part of me doesn't want you…but if you don't want this to go any further, just say the word…we'll go back to how we were."

She cocked her head, biting her lip as she regarded him. As much as she wanted to say no, that she wanted to try more of this strange, exciting new thing between them, but fear clogged her throat, and she nodded with reluctant acquiescence. "Just friends?"

"Just friends. Promise."

She sighed with relief, falling back on the bed beside him. Lucas found himself frowning in her direction, a sudden reminder in his mind keeping him unable to remold some level of familiarity and comfort between them. "Peyt?"

"Yeah?"

"Your birthday…I'm not going to be able to make it to your dinner."

Her head perked up at the mention of her fifteenth birthday celebration, her eyes darkening with disappointment as he continued on. "What? Why?"

He swallowed, hating himself for the hurt that filled her gaze. "I…my dad…some daughter of a business partner's going to be in town, and there's some benefit dinner I'm supposed to escort her to."

"Can't someone else do it?"

Lucas shook his head. "It's an order. I can't say no," he paused, "We'll see a movie the next night, just you and me. Sound good?"

"Alright." There was silence for a long moment, and then she rolled over onto her side, facing him with shadowed eyes. "This girl you have to escort. What's her name?"

"Davis. Brooke Davis."

_We could pretend we were just friends as long as we wanted…but in the end, it wasn't something destined to last…_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Atlanta, 2013

"David? Why David?"

His lips pursed as he looked away, his eyes distant in a way that prophesized his disconcertion. "His birthday's coming up and Nathan wants to take him out for the day. Something about the Duke game and uncle-nephew bonding. Bullshit if I ever heard it."

Lucas's tone grew mocking and slightly embittered, taking on a flat quality that had her fighting to discern how to comfort him, "He's only got the balls to ask for something like that because Haley's parents are coming into town that weekend, so her attention will be elsewhere. No reason for her to suspect her husband's sudden interest in his estranged brother's son."

The bitterness in his voice was sharp and poignant, reflected in the way blue eyes hardened with cold anger, jaw clenching with five years of suppressed temper and hurt.

"Luke…Lucas, look at me." She touched a hand to his cheek, gently grasping his chin to turn his face toward her.

"He's my son. My son, Peyt. Why can't he let it be?"

"Lucas…" his name seemed to be the only sound she could muster in response to an argument and resentment beaten into the ground by five years of the man before her playing pretend, wondering and waiting for his delicately crafted world to fall apart all over again. She sifted her fingers through his hair, letting her hand gently run across his nape, stroking the tension away from the slender column of his neck. He sighed, letting his head roll back against the couch cushion, fixing her with tired, world-weary eyes.

"…what does Brooke say…?"

"She wants it. She says Nathan deserves this chance, if nothing else. He's my brother, my little brother, Peyt…but God, the whole thing just turns my stomach. Every time I look in Haley's eyes, trusting me with the world…" he trailed off, his eyes closing as a strangled sound escaped him, half sob, half moan, and Peyton embraced him all that much tighter, Lucas burying his face in her hair. She cradled his head, reveling in the strange paradox that even as his arms held her close, nestling her against his chest, it was her comforting him, stroking his hair as he let out a few more of those desperate, choked sounds; being the man he was, still not daring to cry.

Peyton rubbed his back, kissed his temple and held him tight as humanly possible, unable to say a thing, for it had all been said dozens of times before. Five years wasn't nearly enough to erase the damage done, by the affair that had completely rocked the world of their small circle. Memories…sophomore year of college…an emotionally distant Nathan, a pregnant Brooke, blissfully ignorant Haley and her little girl, Lucas on her doorstep the night he found himself trapped.

"…She's not even going to be in town."

"Brooke? What…why?"

"She's flying to New York…something to do with Clothes over Bros."

Peyton winced, her hands moving downward to gently massage his shoulders, Lucas shifting beneath her fingers to give her better access, tense muscles slowly relaxing under her touch. She sighed as she slowly worked out the kinks and knots stress had inflicted on him, pressing a light kiss to the side of his neck. "I'm sorry, Luke. I wish there was something I could say, or do…but…"

He shook his head, opening his eyes to gaze up at her, favoring her with a small smile. "You don't have to be sorry, Peyt. You're like a safe haven for me…you know that? That's more than any man could ever ask for."

"You seriously have way too much charm for your own good," she murmured, averting her eyes as she flushed, drawing an amused smile from him, "Even in high school, you were too much of a sweet talker."

"Could be, or maybe it's just you," he teased, as he brushed back her hair, leaning in to gently press his lips to hers, soft and sweet, pulling back as quickly as he'd initiated the moment he realized his blunder. They stared at each other for a moment, neither certain what to say, and Peyton sighed, shaking her head as he opened his mouth to speak.

She kissed him once more, her mouth lingering against his as she felt him respond, his lips moving beneath hers as she twined her fingers through his hair, leaning further into him even as he sat up to draw her closer. His hands glided up her back, leaving pleasured shivers in the wake of his touch, cradling the back of her head as he took gentle, coaxing control of the kiss.

Eliciting a soft moan from her as he caught her bottom lip between his teeth, he gently tilted her head, intent on deepening the contact when she slowly pulled back, breaking their lip lock, her eyes dark and guilty as they met his. "We really shouldn't have done that,' she told him, her voice just barely carrying above a whisper.

"You're right. But when have the rules ever worked when it comes to you and me?"

Disgruntled as she was to admit it, he was right.

Her lips pursed into a frown, pointedly poking him in the chest. "Anyway…before we got distracted, you were being all self-sacrificing again."

A wry smile, "Only you would refer to a kiss like that as 'getting distracted'."

"Yeah, well…it's us. We have a history of 'getting distracted'. But that's beside the point."

"What was the point again? 'Cause you look like you're getting irritated with me…have I ever told you how hot you look when you're angry?"

She snorted; entirely unladylike, though she couldn't deny the slight blush that warmed her face. "Playboy."

"Prude."

"Cad."

"Priss."

"Flirt."

"Tease."

"Rapscallion."

"Rapscallion? What have you been reading?"

"Nothing that would catch your interest, Neanderthal."

"…beautiful…"

She shot him a bemused look, an expression that quickly warmed into a smile, shaking her head at him.

_Lucas was…temptation…passion…lust…love…all of it, for the first time. And I never would have chosen anyone different. _


	3. Chapter 3: Weary Naïveté

**Circle of Friends**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Three: World-Weary Naiveté**

_Atlanta, December 2007_

"I don't care how much the old man wants me there, I already said NO!!"

The enraged shout echoed through the small studio apartment, causing the man it was directed toward to almost shrink back in his ill-ease, visibly nervous under the weight of the fury permeating the air. Said temper originated from the rather belligerent first son of his employer, one Lucas Scott, a handsome youth who would otherwise cut a casually striking profile, sprawled out on his sofa in t-shirt and jeans, barefoot and balancing a textbook across his lap, if not for the ferocity of the scowl contorting his attractive face.

Hank Skerret sighed, rubbing his forehead in a tired gesture as he regarded the younger man with weary eyes. "So I assume I should deliver your decline to the invitation for your brother's birthday event?"

"Bet your ass you can. In fact, you can tell Nathan to go fuck himself, for all I care."

Hank winced at the crude language, biting his tongue in fear of provoking Lucas's infamous temper once more. "I also have a message from Miss Haley. She has foreseen your rejection, so she sends her greetings. She says both she and young Natalie miss your presence at the family home."

The mention of sister-in-law and two-year-old niece always managed to break through the thick-headed defenses surrounding the Scott heir, and Hank more than knew it.

Lucas's eyes softened and he sighed with a world-weary air, painfully rising to his feet as he gave the other man an unreadable look. "Would you wait a second?"

"Of course, sir. As Mr. Scott requests."

"Don't call me that, Hank. My father's the master, my brother's the puppet…I'm just the bastard," Lucas's voice carried through the small apartment through the open door to his bedroom, where he could be seen rummaging haphazardly through his closet.

Hank sighed, reluctantly nodding in response to Lucas's request. "I think, Lucas, that your father would be disappointed to hear you speak about your family that way."

Lucas scoffed as he stepped back into the room, carrying a festively-colored wrapped package under his arm. "Please, Hank. That son of a bitch could care less about me. It's just all about appearances."

"You realize that's just an insult to your grandmother, don't you?" Hank replied dryly, cocking his eyebrow in condescending that rankled with Lucas, far too used to similar expressions from father and half-brother.

"Drop dead, Skerret," Lucas snapped back, shoving the package into Hank's hands, "Give this to Nat, tell her I'm sorry I missed her birthday…and get the hell out."

"As you wish, Master Scott."

"I told you not to call me that!!"

The shout fell on deaf ears, as the door clicked shut behind the old man, leaving Lucas alone with the silence and his own frustration. He growled low in his throat, snatching the textbook from the couch and slamming it into the wall, agitatedly cradling his head in his hands as he collapsed into a nearby recliner chair.

He knew it was a mistake to come back to Atlanta, he really had known that. But after Peyton left to attend school elsewhere, Tree Hill…Tree Hill just didn't feel so much like home anymore.

"Fuck!!"

A dull thud against the wall and the vulgar expletive was audible in the hallway as Hank shook his head exasperatingly at the door, fumbling through his pockets intent on finding his cell phone, already dreading telling Dan his son's reaction to the invitation.

Preoccupied as he was, he did not realize until it was too late as he collided with a slight form coming from the opposite direction, and Hank blinked several times as he picked up an expensive looking bag- Versai, though he would not know- and handed it to the woman, apologizing profusely for his blunder.

"It's alright, really, Mr. Skerret."

Blinking with surprise at the sound of his name, Hank focused in order to catch his first real glimpse of the woman, her vaguely familiar features clicking into place in his mind. A beautiful woman of refined and detached air, immaculately put together as any young socialite, Brooke Davis was one who fit well into her stereotype.

Not that the older man had anything against the girl, knowing her to be an intelligent and courteous, if a little distant, individual; it was more along the lines of trying to understand her attachment to the callous physicality that dominated Lucas's personality, the very definition of "rough around the edges".

He shook his head, adding it up the opposites attracting and the whims of young people, handing the bag to the young woman with a polite smile. "I should warn you, ma'am, the young master's a bit temperamental. Another message from his father, you see."

"Ah." And she smiled, giving him a quick smile as her eyes locked on the door to Lucas's apartment, the gesture dismissive as discretion would allow. "I suppose I can think of a way to better his mood."

"I'm sure you will," came Hank's vague reply, as he respectfully inclined his head to her, continuing his trudge down the hallway, murmuring to himself about inherited tempers and how facing the displeased father was far more dread-worthy that the son.

It turned out, that much to Brooke's surprise- and displeasure- the young master was not at all thrilled to see her.

"Brooke," he greeted gruffly, clearly irritated at the interruption as he tore his eyes reluctantly from his textbook to lock on the woman now standing in his living room, "To what do I owe this visit? I thought you were in Milan?"

Inwardly miffed at his lack of enthusiasm to her arrival, Brooke forced a smile for him, setting her bag aside as she perched on the arm of his chair. Lucas's eyes narrowed at the hand she laid against his arm, cocking an eyebrow wryly.

Her smile turned lascivious. "I was…but Italian boys lost their exotic appeal too quickly. I found myself craving the company…of someone a little closer to home…" she trailed her fingers down his chest, watching him through hooded, come-hither eyes that once upon a time, drew his attention and his arousal, but now, only served to heighten his irritation.

He batted her hand away. "I'm sorry you got bored so easily, but I told you a month ago, I'm not up for this anymore. Go find some other play-toy."

In high school- something that felt an eternity ago- the beautiful young debutante he'd been forced to escort had caught his attention; his mind still reeling with his first kiss with Peyton, he'd been flattered by attention given to him by the socialite, and responded in kind to her overtures that led to about six months of casual dating.

Brooke, for her part, had been young, fully aware of her beauty and effect on men, enjoyed the charm of Lucas's smiles, the sweetness of his kisses, and the flattery of attending social events on the arm of the eldest Scott son. When Lucas's devotion became something heavier, more stifling than she cared for; she turned away the young man's affections and left Lucas to nurse his first bruised heart.

Years later, after Lucas transferred to Atlanta in his third year of university, their paths crossed once more, much to their convoluted pleasure and simultaneous irritation. Lucas, for his part, had outgrown the naiveté attached to their first relationship and came to realize what it was women like Brooke had to offer him- sexual chemistry and the casual roll between the sheets, or a ring bespeaking a trophy wife with eyes more for his family bank account than he himself.

More often than not, it was Brooke on his arm with every event his father forced him to attend, and him in Brooke's bed afterward to sate the body's needs, nothing more, nothing less. A far less complicated relationship than either of them wanted.

That was, until Dan had started hinting at Lucas coming into the full picture of the benefits related to his inheritance, and suddenly, Brooke's attention was sharper, less vague and far more blatant. Lucas, however- at least he had Dan to thank for something for once- had a nose for gold diggers.

The brunt of his dismissal did not settle well with Brooke Davis, and the screaming match that followed left Lucas with more of a headache that he cared for. Hearing his door slam shut enough to shake the walls; he nursed his pounding head in the palm of his hand, wearily eyeing his literature textbook. At twenty-two, he suddenly felt more like eighty.

He should never have come back to Atlanta.

----

Nathan Scott had always been a well-settled man, confident in his dealings and the path set out before him for life, business and family alike. He was Dan Scott's heir the dutiful rightly-born son, magnanimous in the business world and well-respected as the eventual successor to Scott Enterprises.

Everything was set out perfectly, his life soundly structured, his path clear and unclouded of where it was he was destined to go. He knew this, from early childhood…but funny how life held such an aversion to holding itself in perfect order.

Lucas. That was the name of the irritating little road block threatening his position and everything he'd worked so hard for. Years before, when he learned of the bastard spawn's existence, the result of Dan's high school indiscretion, he hadn't been bothered…only indignant on his mother's part as he watched the resulting mess it caused their marriage.

When the older boy came to live in the family manor, from two to eight, he spent those six years brushing the other child off as the very pest he was. When Dan sent Lucas to North Carolina in order to live with his mother, Nathan barely batted an eyelash.

No, none of the preceding events unsettled him…not even when Dan called the bastard back to Atlanta with some blackmail concerning his college tuition. He should have noticed then, his father's sudden heightened interest in his elder son, he should have smelled the foul in the air, but instead kept his attention elsewhere.

But this…this was breaking the last straw on the camel's back. Dan had been planning for a very long time, well-aware of his elder son's disdain for his paternal relations and worked to slowly worm in his way back into the boy's life, forcing summer visits, event appearances, coming to Atlanta to finish school under the threat of his tuition being cut off. Lucas, hot-headed fool that he was, wasn't noticing the subtle changes as the years passed.

Dan was slowly, deftly, grooming the boy back into the fold of higher society. This was ever more blatant by the announcement the Scott patriarch gave his sons the day before- Lucas was ordered a sufficient inheritance in both the family company and monetary wealth.

Nathan's habitual cool, detached composure suffered its first major break that afternoon- the Scott heir was beyond enraged.

"Well, well…Nathan Scott, this isn't exactly the kind of place I'd expect you to frequent."

Nathan looked up through bleary eyes, their fair blue darkened and distant with the effects of the alcohol in his system, to take in the features of a woman standing before him. One Brooke Davis, responded to his searching gaze with a coy smile, sliding onto the stool beside him. He shrugged finally, averting his attention back to the drink nursed in his hands, idly swirling the amber liquid in the shot glass.

She was right, he supposed; the hotel the bar was located in was not at low-class, but not exactly the ritzy status Nathan made a habit of showing his face at. "Appearances can always be deceiving, Davis."

She smiled again as she gave her drink order to the bartender. "I suppose you're right. I don't mind this kind of atmosphere myself. Comfortable…but…" and she let her gaze roam over him, discretion non-existent in the clear appreciation of her gaze, "Wonderfully secluded. A place to keep your head down, yes?"

"If it's seduction you're trying for, Davis…I believe you have the wrong brother."

She made a face at the mention of the bastard, chasing the expression with a hearty swallow of her drink, "Spare me, Nathan. Lucas's proved himself more boy that man. While you," and her voice dropped to a near-purr, crossing her legs under a short-hemmed skirt, "You are more man than most women could handle."

His eyes darkened, he turned to face her, cocking an eyebrow with interest. "I take it you're not most women?"

"Exactly. Though I must say it is a pity, a fine specimen of your kind, tied down to your sweet-faced virgin back home…" her eyes dropped to his wedding ring, amusement coloring her tone.

"Far from a virgin, trust me."

"Perhaps not since the wedding bed, but before, I have little doubt, Scott," she cocked her head, sliding a hand against the V-shape formed at his collar, idly tracing a nail down the exposed skin. Nathan growled under his breath.

"And I hear she's pregnant again, congratulations. Another girl, do you think?"

Nathan's mind raced for a moment, remembering the ultrasound film in his pocket, denoting the sex of his second child…the weight of the ring on his finger. The doe-eyed sixteen-year-old tied to him for life just after his twentieth birthday…his wife…his daughters…

He felt the metallic texture of the key the woman beside him slid into his palm, and he drained his glass, mumbling to the bartender for his check.


	4. Chapter 4: Angel Kisses

**Circle of Friends**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Four: Angel Kisses**

_Atlanta, December 2007_

"So on a scale of one to ten, how much do you miss me?"

Lucas grinned at the sound of the voice greeting him at the other end of the line, nostalgically familiar and beautifully feminine. He hummed softly under his breath, lacing his voice with mock indecision. "I dunno. Somewhere…in the negatives, I think."

"Luke!!" came her indignant reply, his smile growing into a full-blown grin at the sound, "You're evil, you know that."

"I try, Peyt."

She huffed out a laugh, "Insufferable bastard."

"Exasperating bitch."

"Are we just going to keep arguing, or do you want to know how much I miss you?"

"You miss me?" he was genuinely incredulous.

"Of course," a slight pause, and then her voice returned with a mixture of amusement and confusion, "Did you think I wouldn't?"

"…I wasn't sure…with everything that went down between us the last time you came home…"

A soft sigh, and a quiet whisper in his ear, "Forgiven and forgotten. I love you too much to let a squabble come between us, Luke. You should know that by now."

"I know…I'm just feeling insecure, I guess."

"That isn't any need to. Not with us."

As she was giving him the needed reassurance, there was a sharp rapping at the door to Lucas's cramped office. Recognizing the silhouette on the other side of the glass, Lucas motioned him in. Following instructions, Jake Jageleski entered the room as quietly as possible, leaning back against the door as he curiously observed his friend's conversation.

"I'm glad," Lucas's lips curled into a regretful smile, "I hate having to cut this short, sweetheart, but Jake's here. We're supposed to get lunch together."

"Alright, if you have to. Talk to you soon?"

"Definitely. I'll be seeing you soon, remember?""

"How could I forget? Trust me, I've been looking forward to that for months," her words near the end were spoken quietly, shy and soft with affection. Lucas smiled, and though he never would admit such an unmanly thing aloud, in that instant, his heart warmed and surely melted at the endearment of her feelings.

"Me neither…" he closed his eyes, envisioning her in his mind, "oh, and for the record, Peyton, I love you too."

"Always picking the right moment to all soft and sweet, Scott."

"Only for you. I do have a reputation to upkeep."

Her soft laughter was followed by a good-bye and another promise that they would talk soon. As Lucas clicked off his cell-phone and turned his head, he found his colleague grinning at him, "Was that Peyton?"

Keeping his face decisively neutral so not to rise to the bait, Lucas nodded, moving through the motions of grabbing his jacket and keys, locking up as the two men headed out.

"That's all you're going to say?" Jake teased as they stepped out into the fairly chilly air of a Georgian winter afternoon, "The object of all your angst and longing, all the hemming and hawing, calls you, and all you can do is nod and sigh?"

Lucas rolled his eyes, "You're being overly melodramatic."

"My apologies. My class moved into Shakespeare this morning."

Lucas winced in sympathy at the idea of teaching the complex literature to a classroom of college freshmen, "Which one?"

"Hamlet."

"Ouch."

"Exactly. There's a reason why the professors get to teach the upper levels, and they leave the others to us poor grad students."

Lucas had to admit, it was not as if he dreaded teaching freshmen classes; it was more a matter of struggling to generate the interest and attention he craved as a teacher when his students were merely sitting out his class as a requirement toward a general major.

Lucas and Jake had both met the year before when Lucas first came to finish his Bachelor's degree at Emory University. They had forged an easy friendship, sharing common interests if not similar backgrounds. They'd both grown up in quiet Southern towns, but while Lucas had grown up with the constant bane of his reputation of the black sheep Scott bastard, Jake's life had been relatively normal with two loving parents and quiet living, until a blunder his sophomore year of high school that changed his entire life.

At twenty-three, Jake was lingering at the university to further his studies before being granted his teacher's certification; the achievement would be the one he had been seeking since high school, for awaiting him back in Savannah was his eight-year-old daughter Jenny, abandoned at birth by her natural mother and raised by Jake and his parents. His friend's goal was an admirable one: everything he did was in want to make a future for his daughter. To say the least, the dedication and character that made up Jake Jageleski both humbled and impressed Lucas to no end.

The other man was a soft-spoken and humble personality, giving off an aura sweet-tempered boy-next-door. Lucas had liked him from the start, enjoying the camaraderie of Jake's natural good nature and humor, made even better by the comfort of a friend and confidante the Georgian gave him, always willing to listen and sympathize when life began too rough or stressful, offering either comfort or advice when needed.

Especially when Lucas needed to express his frustrations concerning his complicated situation with Peyton Sawyer: the girl he could never quite decide between being the bane of his existence or the love of his life. Even at twenty-two, after fourteen years of friendship, the entanglements and various ins-and-outs of their relationship still managed to baffle him.

Lucas stuffed his hands in his pockets as he idly watched Jake flag down a cab, the two of them loading into the back as the other man gave the driver directions to their chosen restaurant. The small café they were headed to was a favorite to them both, a fair distance away from campus to avoid the outpouring of their fellow students being let out from morning classes. They themselves had the rest of the afternoon off, and Lucas was looking forward to an hour or so of leisure over a sandwich and soup and maybe a cup of coffee or two.

"So how is she?" Jake inquired.

"Peyton?"

"Yeah. Who else?"

"Sorry. My mind was wandering. She's doing well. She really seems to be enjoying herself."

Jake nodded, settling himself more comfortably in his seat, "Still, New York. It's still pretty rough on you having her so far away, isn't it?"

"Yeah. But that art school's been her dream for as long as I can remember. I can't fault her for that. Besides, I was the one who left first."

"But that's only because your old man cut off your tuition to UNC, right?"

Lucas grimaced, bitterly remembering Dan's manipulation and his reluctant move to Atlanta- the only way his sperm donor would continue to pay for his schooling. The memory of Peyton's hurt and betrayed expression as he broke his promise to stay near Tree Hill for his college years was utterly haunting.

"Yeah."

Jake nodded once more, sensing his friend's change in mood. Still knowing Peyton Sawyer was one of his buddy's favorite topics, he brought up a more lighthearted point regarding the girl. "Sophomore year Christmas break. Bet she's eager to come home and tell you all about it. And I know you're equally as eager to see her."

As expected, Lucas's expression visibly brightened, "You bet."

"You've been giddy at the prospect for weeks."

Lucas arched an eyebrow, "Giddy?"

"Okay, maybe not giddy. Excited, though. As your closest friend next to the girl of your dreams," Jake dramatically placed a hand over his heart and rested the other one against Luke's shoulder, "In the name of our brotherhood-"

"I wouldn't claim you as family even if we were blood-related," Lucas replied dryly, rolling his eyes at Jake's antics. Uncharacteristic in the norm of things, Jake still had his moments of weirdness, especially in matters of lightening Lucas's mood.

"Shut up. I'm trying to make a point here."

"Alright, alright."

"As I was saying, I'm personally glad you see you with a little happy in your life. You've been down all semester since Dan starting putting the extra pressure on."

Lucas grinned, even unfazed by the mention of his father in his anticipation of Peyton returning home, "Merry Christmas to me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Tree Hill, December 2000_

He remembers their first kiss.

It had snowed that day, heavily, the first real snow they had seen in years, and Peyton had been in one of her rare moments of excitement. Lucas would remember clearly just how bright her eyes were, how pretty her face with the excited animation of an anticipating smile.

He remembered the two of them being caught and scolded by his mother just before they ran out together through the front door, made to dress in coat and hats and gloves before going out into the snowfall. Peyton had been jittery, agitatedly impatient as she waited for him to finish the buttons on his coat, grabbing his hand and tugging him along behind her as they raced out the door.

The snow had covered the ground in a sea of pure, breathtaking white. He had watched Peyton dancing under the slow fall of fat snowflakes, her fair hair whirling around her, and he was struck speechless by the sight. He had watched the glow of excitement she held, the enraptured expression, the pure joy softening her eyes, and he was awed. He saw an angel dancing beneath the snow falling from the heavens.

She had tugged at his hand, pulling him with her into the strange, spinning dance. It had been a strange feeling, a feeling of freedom, a sensation of flying as he whirled around with his arms around her, elation filling him.

He did not remember who had lost their balance, but they were so tightly wrapped around one another that gravity took its toll, sent them both plummeting toward the ground. He had managed to cushion her fall, landing on his back with a distinct plopping sound, Peyton landing hard against his chest a second later.

Steadying her hands against his shoulders, she had leaned up, paused, and stared down at him with an unreadable expression. He remembers to this day the very profound feeling of her body against his with blatant clarity, and he recalls the sudden tightening in his chest, the painful catch to his breath.

As she studied him, whether she was conscious of it or not, she had begun to lean forward, and suddenly all of his senses were overwhelmed, by large green eyes, by the rosy blush painting her cheeks, by the warm breath mingling in the cold air between them.

She had come so close, her dark lashes brushed against his skin with a feather-light touch, a butterfly kiss, and then her lips had softly brushed against his, an angel's kiss.

The fragile moment was shattered a moment later, as a shout came from the house, his mother calling them in for lunch, and Peyton had sprang away from him, looking terrified, and raced back toward the house.

He remembered lying motionless in the snow, long after his body went numb, his mind racing, staring unseeing at the skies above and left wondering.

He had been fifteen, Peyton twelve. To this day, he still longs for the fall of snow, and another of an angel's kisses.


	5. Chapter 5: Feels Like Home

**Circle of Friends**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Five: Feels Like Home**

_Atlanta, 2013_

They sat together for a long while in a companionable silence, Lucas lounging drowsily, Peyton focused on her paperwork. Eventually, she tossed the file-folder onto the coffee table, leaning back with a tired sigh. "Finally finished."

He watched as she stretched, shirt lifting up in the process, revealing a strip of creamy, bare skin, and she caught the direction of his gaze, arching an eyebrow. He offered nothing more than a sheepish smile and a fleeting caress of his fingers against her exposed stomach. She shivered and caught the offending hand in hers, entwining their fingers.

"Come on. Let me get you something to eat."

He obediently padded after her, lingering in the dining room and listening to the sounds of her rustling around in the kitchen.

"So what were you working on, anyway?"

"Ah. The less glamorous side of owning a gallery. For every new client that gets signed on, or every painting sold, there's a mountain of paperwork to go along with it."

"Sounds like it sucks being the boss."

She glanced over his shoulder at him. "It has perks."

He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. "Would you be willing to show me these perks sometime?"

"Only in your wet dreams, Scott."

"Ouch," he threw a hand over his chest, "You got me, Peyt. Right here."

She laughed, "You'll live." As she turned back around, he shook his head, slowly wandering his way through the room. He lingered on the pictures lining one of the walls, mouth curving into a nostalgic smile as he studied them.

The one that caught his eye the most was a photo of himself with a young boy on each shoulder, all three of them sporting bright smiles. There was David, his carefree, clever boy, with his mop of messy auburn hair and Scott blue eyes. And Alex, sweet and shy, his mother's son with thick, tawny hair and hazel-green eyes.

Lucas closed his eyes, smiling as he caught a whiff of the coffee Peyton was brewing in the kitchen, along with the lingering scents of pumpkin pie and nutmeg, telling evidence of the dessert she'd treated Alex with that night.

No matter what went on in his life, this place was his refuge. Here was where he felt his most comfortable, his most at home. And if he really thought about it, when it came down to things…wherever Peyton was, that was the feeling like home.

When it came to what he treasured most in this world, he had to say that was where he and Peyton had the most in common, for both held the same idea as their most beloved: family. They both knew it wasn't about the blood or the lineage- it was about the people and the feelings that came with them. It was about love…always about love...

He had a complicated childhood. His parents had been small-town, Tree Hill born and bread, high school sweethearts. The golden couple: he the captain and star of the basketball team, she the head cheerleader, Homecoming King and Queen. His mother, Karen, ended up pregnant at the end of their senior year and his father bailed, choosing instead the future college recruiters offered to him left and right.

The man he would grow up to regard as little more than a sperm donor ended up, in some bizarre turn of fate, knocking up his college girlfriend a scarce four months later. An asshole of a man or not, Dan Scott was nothing short of intelligent. Girlfriend soon became wife, and wife's father's money was all the more appealing. Half an eye was kept on the development of his son, Nathan, while the rest of his sights were set on taking a place in (financial success, big-time CEO, flourishing corporation) Auden Lee's good graces.

Meanwhile, Karen Roe was readying herself to take on the challenges of single motherhood, proving her to be an even stronger woman than anyone around her would have thought possible. Anyone, that is, except for Keith, Dan's big brother, Karen's shy admirer, and surrogate father to the soon-to-be born Lucas.

It wasn't until he was two that the family saw hide or hair of Dan, and not long after his birthday, his father's ugly reach took its course. He sued for full custody; it was never clear why he suddenly took difference, perhaps out of some displaced jealousy, or some manipulation whose purpose was clear only to him. It was inevitable he won: Karen was a young, single mother working her fledgling café still waiting to pick up in business, a disappointment to her parents and therefore without the support of family. Despite Dan's earlier abandonment, he was married, financially stable and backed by influential family members, and in winning custody of Lucas, his eldest son was sentenced to spend the next six years at the Scott home in Atlanta.

Dan had his victory, and he quickly lost interest in his firstborn. If his step-mother, Deb, just barely tolerated his presence, his half-brother was openly hostile from the time they were toddlers. Nathan made it clear in no uncertain terms how much he resented Lucas's presence in his home. They seemed to be constantly in competition Lucas wanted nothing to do with in the first place, but Nathan was relentless and it made for a tension that had Lucas constantly on guard for most of his childhood.

His visits with his mother were spare, his time with his Uncle Keith even rarer, but by the time he was eight, Keith and Karen married, giving Karen an opportunity to finally appeal the custody arrangement with the support of her new husband. He returned to Tree Hill, and the year he started the third grade…Peyton Sawyer came into his world.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Tree Hill, 1993_

Lucas Scott sighed to himself as he trudged out onto the playground with his lunchsack in one hand, his book in another. This public school thing was going to take some getting used to. Sitting in a full classroom of students was a big step away from the home tutors his father had insisted on hiring for him and Nathan. He plopped himself down on a bench, rummaging through the bag in search of the goodies his mother was sure to have packed him.

"C'mon, what ya cryin' for?"

His head whipped around to the direction the shouting had come from, his face tightening with anger as he took in the sight before him. A group of boys- a number of them his own age or older- surrounded a small, blonde girl, and the closer he drew to them, the more he could make out the ringleader; one Tim Smith, a notorious bully fourth grade bully. Furious, he picked up speed and raced toward them.

He watched as Tim pulled at the girl's hair, her green eyes obscured by tears and her pretty face flushed a beet red as she swatted at him. Lucas grabbed Tim's arms, gently releasing the girl's hair before giving Tim a hard shove into the nearby wall. The boys stopped their teasing instantly, staring at him slack-jawed as he grabbed Tim's collar like he'd seen in the movies, shoving the other boy back against the rough concrete of the wall.

"Didn't your momma ever tell not to pick on girls? You leave her alone, you hear me?!"

Tim, wide-eyed and stupefied, nodded without a sound, scurrying off the moment Nathan let him go. The other boys took one look at Nathan and did the same, leaving Nathan alone with the girl and a supreme sense of satisfaction. He turned back to the girl, finding her staring at him with wide brown eyes. "Hey, you okay?"

She sniffled, wiped away her tears. "Yeah, thanks a lot." She pouted then, folding her arms. "I could have taken 'em if there wasn't so many. Babies."

Lucas laughed, pleasantly surprised. This girl had some fire in her. "Yeah. They're just cowards to gang up on you. What's your name?"

She eyed him for a moment and then smiled. "Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer," she stated proudly.

He grinned. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Lucas." He cocked his head curiously. "You wanna have lunch with me, Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer?"

She frowned thoughtfully, looking him up and down. Lucas had the distinct feeling he was being judged right then and there, and that judgment would somehow be very important. She nodded to herself after a moment, coming to a decision only she knew about. "Okay."

Lucas smiled and held out a hand. She placed her hand in his, tiny compared to his, and he led her to the bench he had been sitting at before, listening to her happy chatter along the way.

He was pleasantly surprised when later that afternoon, after classes let out that day, that while he sat outside the school waiting for his mother, he was suddenly greeted by a blur of blonde curls, "Lucas!!"

She was sunshine smiles and musical laughter brightening his life from that point on. Somehow, they ended up sitting outside on a bench that afternoon with her in his lap, he reading to her from one of his favorite books. Their mothers came across them not long after, introduced to not just to the children but to each other as well, and puzzled though they were, it was a meeting that would change everything.

She had been five that year, just starting kindergarten, and the friendship that blossomed after that puzzled their parents in the beginning: their age difference, their different genders at ages where cooties normally reigned supreme. But little stood in their way of getting closer and it was side-by-side that they grew up together, experiencing the world and life together.

They came to consider each other's home as their own; Anna Sawyer was like a second mother to him, Wyatt his little brother. Karen and Keith loved Peyton as if she was their own and in return, Peyton adored them just as deeply.

He would always be honored by how much she respected him, trusted him, and most of all…loved him. At twelve, he would be her first kiss; at fourteen, he was the first boy she ever said those three words to; at sixteen, he would be her first lover.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Tree Hill, 2004_

He was nineteen, Peyton sixteen, the summer that it happened.

"Lucas!!"

Lucas jogged across the parking lot toward the source of the shout, a tall redhead and shorter brunette huddled around a familiar curly-haired figure seated on the steps in front of a dorm.

He frowned with concern as he approached them, expression darkening as he took in the weary look to his girl. He knelt before her, checking her over though she refused to look at him. He let out an exasperated breath, recognizing a classic Peyton shutdown.

He tried to hold her but as she shoved him away, he surrendered, not wanting to push her. He pressed a kiss to the drop of her head, straightening up to face her companions. His protective instincts rose even further as he felt the worry and fear practically radiating from the teenagers.

"Rachel, Bevin, what about you? You alright?"

Both nodded, and while Rachel looked more composed than the other two, Bevin appeared close to tears. Lucas's face softened; he motioned to her and she flew into his arms, burying her face into his sweatshirt as he held her. He looked over the top of her head to Rachel, an unspoken question in his eyes and at her hesitant nod, bile rose in his throat. The same thing had been tried on Bevin.

"Did you call Skills?"

At the mention of her boyfriend, Bevin sniffled and nodded against his chest. "Yeah. He's coming to get us." She drew back, wiping away her tears, and she gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"Anytime." These girls had been cheerleading with Peyton since middle school, they were both dating two of his friends- it was natural he developed a sort of big brother mentality. "Which one of you is taking me inside?"

"I will," Rachel volunteered, her expression hardened at the implications of what he wanted and he knew she was on board. "Bevin, you stay with Peyton."

Bevin gave them a worried look and then hesitantly nodded. During the whole exchange, Peyton didn't say a word, but he watched her every move and she eventually looked up at him, eyes dark and bloodshot from crying. He dropped back to her level, cupped her face and kissed her chastely. She responded, breathing out an almost inaudible whisper of his name before he got up to leave.

"Be back soon, sweetheart."

Rachel led him away and together they walked back into the college dorm. He wrinkled his nose as they came into a room heavy with smoke, reeking of sweat, sex and cheap alcohol. He snorted with disgust, dilengently following after the girl as she led him to his intended target.

Lucas saw red as Rachel pointed out the guilty party and he marched forward. He grabbed the obviously drunken frat boy by his shirt, slammed him against the wall, and set to work.

The ride home in his truck was quiet. Peyton didn't say a word to him even after they arrived at his home and she slammed the door shut, stomping her way into the house. He sighed wearily but didn't object to the behavior. He called the Sawyers to tell them Peyton would be spending the night, made himself up a bed on the couch and left her alone.

He knew Peyton through and through. She was grateful to him, that much had been clear in her eyes, but her pride was also hurt. The attack had scared her and she was too stubborn to admit it. She would take it out on him for the time being until she was ready to talk about it. When she needed him, he would be there, just like always.

That time came later that night, when she walked hesitantly into the living room, drawing his attention from where he lay on the sofa. She was cautious, blatantly so, but he smiled, motioning for her to come to him. It only took a moment until she was in her arms and for a long silence, he just held her, Peyton nestled against him, head against his chest to focus on the rhythm of his heartbeat.

"He…he was nice at first. We were just flirting for a while. He liked music, he didn't push me to have too much to drink…I didn't think too much about kissing him."

Lucas rested his head atop of hers, stifling his instinctive temper and just let her talk. Peyton reached for his hand, their fingers entwining as she continued. "I didn't like it. His kisses were sloppy, his hands were too grabby…and when I said no, he didn't stop."

His arms tightened around her, his face burying in her hair. "Do you know the guy who…"

"The guy who came to my rescue," when he nodded, her mouth cocked into a half-smile, "People call him Junk. I think he's about your age."

"I'll have to thank him if I ever meet him."

She sighed, "Is there something wrong with me, Luke? Any guy I've ever tried to get with ends up being a jerk. They don't want me…they just want to get in my pants."

He kissed her head. "It's not you, sweetheart. You're gorgeous. It's those idiots' fault that they can't see it."

"Yeah, but…it's like they don't even care. They try to touch me and it's just for them, not me. Never for me. It's supposed to feel good, right?"

She shifted onto her stomach, propping herself up against his chest to look down at him. Lucas's expression was wary but his will was weak against Peyton in any scenario, and he knew he would be answering those questions filling her eyes no matter how awkward or strange. "The girls you've dated. They liked being with you, didn't they?"

He paused, and winced slightly. He wasn't a virgin, had been with a handful of girls in the three years since then, but somehow it felt wrong to talk about it with Peyton. "I hope so," he brushed back her hair, "It's wouldn't be right if I didn't please them too."

She nodded, nuzzling against her chin. She whispered her next comment, so soft he almost couldn't hear. But he did…Oh, God, did he hear it.

"…I bet you could make it good. I know you'd do it right…"

He choked with surprise, staring up at her with wide eyes as she looked back, oddly calm. She leaned down, so suddenly he didn't have time to stop her and kissed him. Firework, cliché as it sounded, was the only way to describe the feelings coursing through him at that one kiss.

He groaned, kept the press of his mouth to hers gentle but the kiss thorough. She made soft, pleased sounds as he slowly deepened the contact, burying one hand in her hair, the other caressing her hip. She leaned into him, hips pressing into his and the moment he felt her hand under his shirt, curiously skating across his abdomen, he pulled back, staring up at her with glazed, bewildered eyes.

"Peyton, we really shouldn't. This isn't right."

"Luke," she kissed his neck, nuzzling against his jaw, "I trust you the most out of anybody. You care about more than any guy I've ever met. I know you'd take care of me. Please?"

She kissed him again, nipping at his bottom lip and his eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, inwardly berating himself as his nether regions responded, the sudden tightness to his pants bringing a flush of shame to his face. "Peyt, no…You're too young. I don't want to take advantage."

She drew back, peering down at him. "Lucas, do I look traumatized to you? I know what I'm doing. I know what I want, and what I want is to be with you."

He took in a deep breath, mind racing. He knew he was giving in, no matter all the reasons he really shouldn't be. No matter how you looked at it. A, girl in question was his best friend. B, same best friend was the victim of an attempted date rape earlier that night. C, girl was a virgin. D, said girl wasn't even legal yet, and he was three years older. That alone could land him in deep shit.

E…looking up into her eyes, his mind trailed off. Oh, hell, did he have another point? Because God help him, he loved this girl. Always had. Always would.

He kissed her once more and his fate was sealed.

He kept his kisses soft and his touches gentle. Somehow they ended up in his bedroom, his arms around her loosely so she could break free whenever she chose to do so. She frowned as she broke away from him, meeting his puzzled gaze. "You don't have to treat me like glass, Luke. I'm not going to break."

"I just don't want to hurt you."

"When have you ever hurt me?" She nipped at his ear. "I don't need special treatment, Luke. I just need you." She brushed her hand against the front of his jeans when she passed and he grunted, desire rising as his mind did a 360. Virgin, not naïve, he supposed. If she wanted him, she would have him.

She lay back against the bed, leaning on her elbows as she watched him through hooded eyes. Lucas thrilled at the sensual sight, his gaze burning into her as it trailed up and down her body. Her mouth curved into a half-smile, a shiver of anticipation running up her spine under the intensity of his stare. "Well then, are you coming to get me or not?"

He growled, crawling toward her to cover her body with his. His kiss was hard, tongue pushing past inviting lips, plundering her mouth. She gave a low purr of pleasure, hands tugging at his hair with equally arduous demand.

"Peyt," he groaned her name, pulling impatiently at her clothes as his mouth dropped over every inch of bare skin within his reach. Soon enough, she lay bare before him and he drew back on his haunches, expression reverent as he studied her. "God, you are so beautiful."

She watched him carefully, vulnerable for the first time in his presence, slightly disturbed by the unfamiliar feeling. "Lucas?"

His aggressive passion had faded into an inquisitive expression and he looked up at her. She bit her lip, whispering warily, "Lucas, I don't know…"

In any other circumstance, he would have been amused by her abrupt loss of bravado if he hadn't been so worried by the sudden fear in her voice. "Hey," he kissed her gently, "I'm here. What's wrong?"

"I've never…"

"I know," Lucas smiled softly. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"…yeah…I want it to be you…" she stroked a hand against his cheek, tracing her fingers against his lips.

"We'll do this together, okay? I'll take it slow."

"Yeah." She reached up and linked her arms around his neck, gently drawing him down toward her. The resulting kiss was sweet, her mouth warm and pliant against his. He groaned, submitting to the small hands stripping him of his clothes. Naked skin against naked skin was a thrilling sensation and he wrapped his hands around hers, locking them above her head, capturing her lips in a teasing kiss.

He trailed his mouth along her jaw and chin, biting down into the curve of her neck and then soothing the agitated skin with a brush of his tongue. She squirmed beneath him, frustrated at the inability to touch him. "Lucas!" She made a face at him, bucking against him. "Jerk."

He chuckled against her neck, moving his lips to suck at her pulse. Her half-hearted struggles against his hold ceased, her soft moans heating his blood, aching with need as he rocked against her, her legs wrapping around his waist to draw him closer. He took his explorations further and released her hands, his attentions drawing a low whimper from her as she dug her nails into his shoulders. He grunted but paid it little mind, delighting in her responses.

"Luke…" The look in her eyes was soft, trusting. He smiled and embraced her, drawing her into his warmth. In her trust, his tenderness and their passion, he made love to her for the first time, creating a night neither of them would ever forget.


	6. Chapter 6: Precious Things

**Circle of Friends**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Six: Precious Things**

_Tree Hill, May 2006_

Change really was inevitable in the chaos of their lives, but as the summer arrived and he returned from school, all he really wanted was the familiarity of his home.

A gentle breeze blew, warm and balmy with the first hints of the approaching summer, the rich scents of the season mixing with the sweet aroma of the blossoming lilac. He inhaled deeply from the rush of tepid air, the swiftly moving current cooling his body. The wind brushed back the hair falling in his eyes, causing his loose-fitting t-shirt to billow in the wind.

It was springtime, bordering on the onslaught of the summer season, the mild softness of the spring mixing with the spicy heat of summertime. Still, the woods were cool that day, light spilling in teasing pools of molten gold through the thick canopy of overhanging trees; the long, cobalt shadows cast by them providing amble shading from the hovering menace of the sun.

A-buzz with life was the forage around him, the sounds of insects chirping and birds singing, the distant calls of animals yet unknown to his auditory memory. Lucas closed his eyes as he knelt down and stretched out upon the grass, releasing a soft sigh of content.

As he finally opened his eyes once more, blinking away the fog of drowsiness, he found himself awash in the warm, vermillion glow radiating from the ascending sun. He suddenly grinned to himself, effortlessly leaping to his feet as he took off toward town in a swift run.

Lithe and well-built, matured into a virile man just turned twenty-one, his years on the track team at school had shaped him into a natural runner, and so it was with remarkable speed that he arrived back at the Sawyer residence.

Years of practice made it easy to climb up to her room. Second floor or not, the tree nearby was familiar in its challenges and he expertly scaled it, glad to find the window open. He slipped in, creeping with soundless footsteps into the bedroom. The early dawn's light was just starting to spill in through the window, shrouding the woman lying in the bed in molten gold; she slept peacefully, serene and lovely in her slumber. He was nearly reluctant to wake her but for the way he craved her company.

He sat down upon the bed, sinking slightly with the addition of his weight, and the shift awoke Peyton. She released a soft sigh, thick lashes feathered over viridian eyes opening to regard his appearance. Recognizing the presence of her lover, she smiled warmly, accepting the soft kiss he offered as he bent down to her.

She twisted her fingers through short ponytail at his neck, pulled back to tame the neglected hair that grew shaggy around his shoulders these days. She had to admit, she did enjoy the new length- wrapping around her fingers as she beckoned him to her, brushing against her face as he kissed her. With that thought, she took advantage of her hold on his hair, urging him closer, tilting his head down to deepen the kiss. Lucas made a soft sound of approval, only drawing away when the need for air became necessary.

"Good morning," she whispered to him, pressing a peck to his cheek as she stroked her fingers along his jaw-line, noting the fine layer of stubble still there. She supposed he hadn't had a chance to shave yet.

He slipped his arms around her, lying down beside her and drew her against him, Peyton's form curving so perfectly into his like they always had; two pieces of the same puzzle. She nestled against him, inhaling as she rested her head against his chest, drawing up slightly with surprise.

He smelled of earth and wind, with hints of the previous night's spring rain. She finally took in the full sight of him. Boots instead of his usual Converse, hair tousled from the wind, his jeans stained with red clay around the knees.

"Where've you been?"

"Yes. I spend some time out by Miller's Pond. I wanted to see everything again, reacquaint myself with home."

She laid a hand against his chest, "Are you reacquainted?"

His eyes heated, his mouth stretching into a slow, lazy grin, "Not everything."

He gently rolled her onto her back, levering himself over her. She braced her hands against his back, pulling him closer to settle his weight against her as Lucas trailed kisses down her neck, drawing a soft moan from her.

His hands slid toward the hem of her tank-top, and Peyton caught them before he went too far, regretfully putting a stop to their activities. "Lucas…"

"What's wrong?"

"Wyatt's next door. And my parents are just down the hall."

He nodded thoughtfully, rubbing his thumb against her palm, "Come for a swim with me, then. I've been gone long enough that the water should be warming up."

"Luke…"

He leaned closer, his nose rubbing against hers, his eyes soft, "Please?"

There was no way she could resist that look.

"Fine. But it's your ass on the line if we get caught."

"What, you wouldn't come to my defense?"

"I make no promises."

Lucas sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward as she went to change. She came back out to meet him a few minutes later, and she was gorgeous as ever. Nothing different about her everyday wear, but still, every time he saw her, she managed to take his breath away.

She looped her arm through his, smiling, and Lucas's mind came to the inevitable conclusion. Some things were worth giving everything for, and Peyton was definitely one of them.

The water was warmer like he had promised; just cool enough to relax the heat of sunlight against her naked skin. She wondered vaguely how long it had been since she set sight on a bathing suit and she could not recall, pushing the thought away with a mental shrug. Swimming bare-skinned gave her more of an opportunity to look upon her lover's form anyway.

Lucas was a bit behind in their race there, and he came jogging out of the foliage, grinning as he saw her already in the water. He made his way closer, letting his gaze wander as he found himself mentally tallying up the garments that were suddenly underfoot, arching a surprised eyebrow as he came to realize that with the amount of clothing, she had to be nothing short of nude. He'd expected her to have at least grabbed a bathing suit when he waited for her to dress. It surprised and yet contented him-for it spoke of her trust in him- most especially when he finally looked up to watch her.

Quietly afloat, she was lying back against the water to enjoy the sunlight falling down on them. Her expression was peaceful, her pose still and serene, but soon her lips curved up into a smile and she called out to him, "Are you going to stand there all day?"

He met her eyes, seeing the coy looked to them, flashing a grin and instantly responding. He shrugged out of his clothing, diving down into the cool waters.

She barely heard the break of the water that announced his return to the surface and a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against a muscled chest. Warm lips touched her shoulder and she smiled, leaning more comfortably back into his embrace. She turned to face him and he framed her face, tilting her head up to study her with tender eyes.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she watched him withdraw through hooded eyes, her vision full of nothing but the blue of his eyes, deep and penetrating as the skies their color represented. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her face against his shoulder and whispered, "I've missed you."

"I missed you as well. So much, like you wouldn't believe." He frowned as he suddenly found his vision obscured and his hand rose to move his sopping hair out of his eyes. With a warm smile, Peyton accomplished the task for him, green eyes gazing up at him with an unreadable look. As her breath began to audibly hitch, he became aware of his own pounding heart and he leaned closer…closer…just a bit closer, and then…

The resulting kiss was soft and questioning, her eyes fluttering closed as his lips grazed over hers, applying the lightest bit of pressure as she responded, twining her arms around his neck in a way that consequently brought her closer to him. He pulled back slightly, his nose brushing against hers as he smiled.

"How was that?"

"Hmm," she hummed contently, "It was wonderful. I've missed this."

"Me too," he lifted his hand from her face and placed it carefully on the small of her back, gliding his fingers up her spine to rest at her neck, sending sensual shivers in his wake as he cupped the back of her head, tangling his fingers through her curls.

She brought her own hands up to touch him, tracing the musculature of his arms and the blades of his shoulders, palms lying flat against his back to feel slick skin warm and wet from water. And their lips met once more, passion taking its place over chastity. They broke apart only as the need for air became an issue, and Peyton shuddered for breath, trembling against him. Lucas held her close and she wrapped her arms around him in return, resting her head against his chest.

"Question."

She glanced up at him, "Shoot."

"Can you get out tonight?"

She grinned. "Of course. I've had the same escape plan since middle school when it came to meeting you, remember?"

He laughed. "You, my dear, are brilliant."

"I try," she said, shifting against him, looping her arms around his neck. Lucas shivered as her breasts brushed against his chest, thighs pressing against his groin. She moved slightly, earning a heavy groan from him as his loins tightened; face flushing with embarrassment for he knew she was sure to have felt the evidence of his arousal.

He shifted uncomfortably, glancing away abashedly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Her arms tightened around him, thighs parting to cradle him against her all the more intimately.

He grunted, pulling her all the more closer. "Peyt…"

She smiled softly. "No more hesitating, Lucas."

One hand she slid up his back, the other placed at the nape of his neck. Their lips met in a series of light kisses, once, twice, a third time and fourth time. Peyton smiled into the kiss, tilting her head up in anticipation of a more ardent response. "Lucas…please…"

She drew his mouth once more to hers as he wrapped his hands around her hips, lifting her up toward him. Her legs slung around her hips, and he carried her toward shore, rather proud of his double-tasking as he found himself shocked they even made it to land after stumbling a few times. They sank to the ground, so wrapped up in each other that it took a short while before they noticed the sudden sound of a cell phone, coming from their clothing. Recognizing the ringtone, Peyton turned her head toward the source of the noise, "That's mine."

"Don't answer it," he muttered, his attention more on the smooth skin beneath his lips than the distracting ringing.

She moaned, tangling her fingers through his hair. "I have to. It could be something important."

"It's probably just your parents. You're eighteen, you don't need them checking on you. Ignore it."

She pulled back from his attempted kiss, staring up at him curiously. "Since when are you so disregarding?"

He frowned in response to her withdrawal. "Since when are you so responsible?" he mimicked.

She gave him a sour look and sighed, "I'm sorry."

He relented and rolled off of her. She got up and he gave a groan of disappointment as she brushed against him in the process. "Blue balls. Wonderful."

She glared at him over her shoulder as she made her way toward their piled clothing, her brows arching. In the background, the phone stopped ringing, the call missed. "Pig. I wouldn't have expected you of all people to say something so chauvinistic."

He propped himself up on an elbow, glancing at her apologetically. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong. You know that's not all I meant. I've missed you."

"I missed you too. But if my dad catches on that I snuck out, it's not going to be pretty. He's already disappointed enough I'm going to art school instead of college. I put a foot out of line before August, and he'll think twice about helping with my tuition."

"Tell me about it," Lucas grumbled, more to himself than her. She heard him anyway.

"What's that mean?"

He shook his head, watching as she redialed and put the phone to her ear. "Don't worry about it. I'll tell you later."

She gave him a suspicious look and then her attention was elsewhere, her earlier caller picking up at the other end of the line. "Daddy? Sorry I missed your call."

Her expression seemed to change and shift so quickly, he could barely read the emotions before they were replaced by others. Confusion, anger, fear, and doubt; helplessness, denial, and finally, complete and utter devastation. Pale and shaking she dropped the phone, choking back a sob as she released his name in a low whimper. "Lucas…"

He was instantly on his feet, pulling her into his arms. In any other situation, he would note the oddity of the two of them standing there in a tight embrace, completely naked, but his attention was purely and solely on the sobbing girl in his arms.

She was trembling and he soothingly rubbed her back, truly scared for her. "Peyton, what is it? What's wrong?"

"It's…it's my mom and Wyatt. There's been an accident."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She stayed with him, sleeping with him in his bed sometimes hours long into the afternoon, other times merely resting at his side, plagued by insomnia. He brought her food, pleaded with her to eat, only winning half the time. The first time she left his room for anything other than the shower and toilet was the funeral three days after the accident, and she was pale and gaunt in her black dress as she stood before the graves, supported on her shaky legs by Lucas at her back.

Afterward, she rarely spoke to anyone but him, and even then, she never said much. There was the occasional thank you to his mother and Keith when they did something for her, for she spent far more time at his home than hers. She confided in him that it felt empty and hollow without the warm presence of her mother and brother and Lucas found himself agreeing. Though Larry was lingering until September before he went back on another job, he wasn't much of a presence in his daughter's life, seeming more a ghost than a man.

She was quiet and stubborn in her grief and the summer months passed slowly, at a nearly agonizing pass. It wasn't until late July that he could get Peyton to listen to him to deliver the news of Dan's ultimatium regarding his tuition: come back to Atlanta, or be left with nothing. Though knowing she would react badly, he was unprepared for the violence of her reaction. As she stared at him with unbelieving eyes, his shame was as potent as the betrayal on her face.

He ducked just in time to avoid the shoe she threw at his head, grimacing at the angry flush to her face, tears she must have hated to show glistening in her eyes. "You're leaving?! You're leaving me?! Do you have any idea how much I need you right now? You can't do this to me, Lucas! It's not fair."

"Who's leaving who? You're going to New York, Peyton. That's pretty damn far away from me." He hated himself for the venom in his voice, knowing himself to be in the wrong. He had been stayed as close to Tree Hill as he could get when it came time for college, to keep himself near her. It was unspoken between them that he would follow her anywhere, stay with her no matter what. His betrayal of that made him physically ill, but for once…just once…he wanted a chance to be selfish.

Peyton visibly flinched, stung. Lucas was always so patient, gentle, with her, but at the same time, it was no secret she could get under his skin like no other. "You were supposed to come with me."

"When did I ever promise something like that?"

He hated himself for the hurt that clouded her eyes, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to stop. She wrapped her arms around herself, somehow hoping the physical defense would protect her from the pain of his words. "I thought it was obvious, that you would stay with me."

His eyes softened and he sighed, giving her a weary look. "I love you, Peyton. You know that. And I want to be here for you- always. But this is my future we're talking about, Peyt. Don't make me choose."

"I need you, Lucas. You can't leave me."

He groaned, burying his face in his hands, everything in him reacting to the pure need in her voice. "Please, sweetheart," his voice was pleading, bordering on desperation, "Don't do this to me."

"Fine," she snapped, "Do what you want. But don't expect me to congratulate you, to give you a pat on the back for doing such a good daddy's boy. I don't want anything to do with you."

Watching her storm out of the room, he clutched at his head, falling back against the wall behind him. "You've made your bed, Scott," he mumbled to himself, "Now you're going to have to lie in it."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He was startled awake that night by a strange creaking against the old floorboards in the hallway, but watched quietly as his door was pushed open, a familiar silhouette appearing in the doorway. He lifted his head, studying her form as she stepped into his bedroom, soundlessly closing the door behind her.

Moonlight poured in through his open window, illumination her in a pallid glow- the golden curls tumbling around her shoulders, the lithe body hiding beneath the overlapping material of the t-shirt she wore, one of his own. It was the only thing she wore in the summer heat and his eyes followed slender, bare legs as she slid onto his bed, staring at him imploringly.

"Peyton, what is it?"

She looked down, hesitating, fingers playing with the hem of the shirt. She glanced back up, expression a mix of determination, need and vulnerability. "Luke."

He studied her closely, searching. He slowly leaned close, kissing her softly. He drew back a moment later, meeting those soft green eyes reflecting nothing back at him but love. She whispered his name again, soft and sweet. "Luke."

Their lips met again and he leaned back, taking her with him. She nestled into his body, a perfect fit, arms wrapping around him and legs entangling with his. It was an embrace they wouldn't part from until the dawn broke over the horizon.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning, Lucas left for Atlanta.


	7. Chapter 7: Worst December

Circle of Friends

**Circle of Friends**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Seven: Worst December**

_Atlanta, December 2007_

"Lucas!!"

It had to be one of the greatest joys his life had ever known up until that point to see Peyton Sawyer running toward him across the crowded airport, dropping her bag and throwing her into his arms. As he held her close, he felt at peace for the first time in the five months they had been separated. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, murmuring against his skin. "God, Luke, I've missed you."

"Me too, sweetheart, me too." He clutched her even tighter against him, her feet dangling between them as he had grown several inches taller than her back in their teenage years. Peyton noted this with soft laughter, raising her head from his shoulder to meet his eyes, a smile in their gentle blue. She kissed him, light and chase, but full of more feeling that either had experienced in the months passed since their last night together.

A throat cleared behind them and the intimate moment was shattered as the pair looked over to the tall, curly-haired man standing nearby, eyes bright with amusement. "I really hate to interrupt, but if I'm still your ride, Luke, we gotta go. I have a class to teach in like two hours."

Lucas let her go and Peyton slid down to her feet, walking between the two men as they made their way to claim her baggage. She was introduced to Jake, who, right off the bat, was an upbeat, friendly man she could clearly see forming a good camaraderie with Lucas. It didn't change the fact, however, that he was also a flirt, and while his subtle attentions amused her, they didn't sit so well with Lucas.

He went from holding her hand to wrapping an arm around her waist, holding her close but not smothering against his side as they made their way through the crowds. Anyone could have dismissed it with the excuse of not wanting her to get lost, but she knew him, and the stiffening in his body, the unconscious straightening of his body and the tightening of his jaw, translated into unspoken jealousy.

But Luke being Luke, he didn't say a word, nor did he challenge Jake in any kind of male territorial way. Instead, he posed himself as protective instead of possessive, not trying to crowd her but must definitely not willing to share her.

He was holding the car door open for her after he and Jake had loaded her suitcase and duffle, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing her so she was free to get in. She made no move to do so and when he looked down to give her a bewildered look, she tilted up on her tiptoes, cupping his face to kiss him. Not the chaste kiss from the entrance gate, nor an overdone porno session, but something very potent, very real, that left them both shaking by the time she pulled away.

"Wha…what was that for?" he definitely wasn't displeased, just shocked, and more than a little breathless.

She smiled coyly and winked, before climbing into the passenger seat. "Just for being you."

As he dazedly loaded himself into the backseat and Jake started up the ignition, Peyton caught Lucas's eyes through the rearview mirror, her lips curling into a smirk. Next time she was in Tree Hill, she'd have to compliment Karen on the context of raising a gentleman.

That night was a quiet one of intimacy for the reunited couple: a simple pasta dinner, a vintage horror movie they both loved, and finally, conversation over an open bottle of wine, drawing into the midnight hours as they spoke of anything and everything.

Lucas reclined back against the sofa, Peyton leaning against his chest as they lay together in a comfortable silence. He watched as she took an idle sip of the wine he'd provided for her and he commented, "I wonder if I made the right decision, aiding and abetting a minor to come in possession of alcohol. Maybe I should have given you milk instead?"

She slapped his arm, pointedly taking another drink from the glass. "Shut up. You're one to talk. You were the one dragging your drunk self through my window to sleep it off when I was still in middle school."

"In my defense, I was young and stupid. Besides, my mom would have handed me my ass if I went home like that."

"It still shocks me to this day how you managed to climb that tree like that."

"Just another example of my many talents."

She smiled and nestled back against him. He responded by wrapping an arm around her. "Hey, Peyton?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we gonna talk about it?"

She sighed, nodding against his chest. "Yeah, we probably should."

He closed his eyes, leaning his head against hers. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I did what I thought I had to-"

"I know. I thought about it later. You made the right choice. It hurt like hell to watch you go, but I know it had to be done."

"Still…"

She leaned her head back, nuzzling against his jaw. "Luke, I understand. I know it hurt you probably just as much as it hurt me. I'm sorry too. I acted like a selfish brat, expecting you to drop everything and come with me."

She noticed one of his hands twitching, recognizing the gesture as one he often got when unsettled. His fingers began to drum against his thigh as he continued speaking, much to her amusement. "It was always okay. You were hurting and you wanted me to be there for you. I got it. I just wish I had responded better."

She laughed suddenly, grabbing his hand to stop his nervous movements. "Here's an idea. Why don't we stop playing the blame game and just accept the fact that we're both sorry? Otherwise this could go back and forth all night."

He smiled softly, "Agreed."

"Good."

She settled her head against his shoulder, tilting her face up to study him. She ran a hand through his hair, noting the new length. The look was extremely clean-cut; emphasizing the fact his jaw-line was uncharacteristically freshly shaven. It was a far-cry from the vagabond look he'd sported the previous summer, as well as the endearing scruffiness he maintained during high school. Back then, she'd always wondered if he even owned a comb.

"You cut your hair."

"I did. There was a sort of transition between scruffy graduate student and TA. Have to look the part to get the favor."

"Mmm…I suppose that makes sense. You just look different."

"It's just growing up, Peyt. I'm still me. No matter what."

Peyton gave a nod, her unspoken satisfaction with the answer evident in the gesture. She pressed a kiss to the back of his neck and Lucas shook in a sharp breath. Peyton, quietly curious, noted the way his muscles quivered beneath her, the way he tensed in that special way she knew to be arousal and not anything else. "Lucas…the way we left things…"

"I'm sorry--"

She placed a finger against his lips. "Luke, don't. We already went through that. I'm talking about us," she traced her hand down his chest, feeling again that trembling both of anticipation and excitement, "This."

He breathed out heavily. "Do you have someone?"

"No one since you," she shook her head, "What about you? Are you still with that woman?"

"I ended things about a month ago."

"Good."

She kissed him softly, letting the contact linger for a moment before she pulled back. He smiled, running a hand through her hair. "Have I ever told you how much I love these curls?" he quietly mused.

"About a thousand times growing up. But it's always good to hear."

"That's good." He kissed her again, equally as tender as hers had been, stroking his fingers against her cheek. "Peyt, I want to do it right."

"Us?"

"Yeah."

"Me too. I want a chance to be with you, Luke. A real chance this time. But we're so far apart…"

He nodded, leaning his forehead against his forehead. "I've been thinking about that. I wanna come to New York with you."

"Luke…I'd love nothing more than to have you with me, but what about school? You've been talking about teaching university for years. Cultivating dedicated minds is how I think you put it."

"And I still want that. But I'm finishing up this year. I'll have my degree. I can do my graduate work up in NYC."

"What about your father?"

"To hell with Dan. I'll apply for student loans or scholarships or something. Besides, once he finds out what my major is, he'll have a coronary anyway."

Her smile was bright, her eyes hopeful as she laid a hand against his chest, resting her palm over his heartbeat. "Are you sure this is what you want, Luke?"

"Absolutely."

She laughed, delighted and embraced him. He held her tightly, and somewhere between their enthusiasm and excitement, mouths met and clung, bodies entwining in heated anticipation. Soon enough, Peyton found herself half-naked, sprawled over the body of the man she was fast considering to be the love of her life, subject to the very pleasurable attentions his lips were attending to her bare skin.

Reluctantly, she pulled away from him. "Luke, wait."

Lucas obeyed. "What's wrong?"

"Let's take things slow this time around. We're not in any rush, right?"

He smiled and nodded, leaning up to nuzzle against her neck. "Yeah. No rush."

"Okay." Long since lacking inhibitions around him, she didn't bother to redress herself, nestling back against him. Lucas's arms slipped back around her and he lay back, holding her in silence. She idly caressed her fingers against his bare chest in random patterns, asking, "So what are the plans for tomorrow?"

He brushed his hand against her head, lazily caressing his fingers through golden curls. "I was thinking we could spend the day in the city. I know a bunch of places I think you might like. Some galleries, a few record stores, things like that. And if you feel like it, Jake wants to go out tomorrow."

"Sounds good." She murmured with contentment as he continued to stroke her hair, nuzzling against his chest. Her breath began to slow and even, her body relaxing against the heat of his.

He smiled amusedly. "Sleeping here?"

"Mmm…"

Lucas chuckled at the noncommittal response, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Sweet dreams, sweetheart."

Lucas's friend, Jake, it turned out, was a lot of fun to be with.

They had barely made it out before Lucas had gotten a sudden call on his cell. Whatever was on the end wasn't good, had him apologizing profusely to them both as he excused himself, giving her a quick kiss, Jake a "manly hug" and a wish that they had fun without him for a bit. He wouldn't be long, he said.

She found herself sitting with him at a club, listening to the local bands make their debuts on stage. He set a glass in front of her, teasing her for the virgin drink and slid into the chair across from her.

"So how's life treating you, college girl? Partying up in the Big Apple?"

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help but smile a little. "You are so incredibly cheesy, has anyone told you that?"

"Just about everybody," he grinned, "But it doesn't sting so much coming from the pretty ones."

"You are a flirt, aren't you?"

"I try. Always got to give it a shot."

"No baskets around here for you, buddy," she looked up at him with a soft smile, "Maybe in any other circumstance…"

"I get it. But in this time and place, I wouldn't mess with Tree Hill's Romeo and Juliet if I was paid too. It's like screwing with the alignment of the stars or something."

Peyton flushed. Jake grinned, leaning back in his chair to regard her. "So tell me about yourself. Skeletons in your closet, dirty little secrets, hidden kinks, the whole nine yards."

She glared at him half-heartedly, her eyes conveying her amusement. "You first."

So he went first. There was much more to him than the light-hearted exterior, it seemed. She learned he was a single father, a hard worker, and a compassionate friend to her Luke. His eyes were soft, his smiles warm, and his soul tender. He reminded her in many ways of Lucas.

"So are you going back? After you finish?"

Jake nodded. "Sooner than that, actually. I'm planning on it at the end of this year. I wanted to do my graduate work here, but hell, I miss my little girl."

"I bet she misses you too."

He cocked his head curiously, "I can think of someone who misses you, college girl. He misses you something fierce." He leaned closer, lightly teasing, "You know if you ever wanna come back South, there's this good art school in Savannah…"

"Thanks for the head's up," she hesitated slightly, "Jake, about Lucas…did he say…" She stopped, her mind coming to an abrupt stop at the name.

Lucas…

He'd been gone a lot longer than "a bit."

Two hours since he had left them and both Jake and Peyton had tried his cell phone half-a-dozen times, tried the apartment phone numerous others. It had started as a slightly uneasy feeling in the back of her mind, turning into an uncomfortable sensation crawling up her spine and culminating into an anxious twisting in her stomach. She knew something had to be wrong.

"Jake, I'm sorry, but could you take me back?"

He flashed her a smile, holding out his arm. "Sure thing. Better go check on your Romeo."

Later that night, Peyton let herself into Lucas's place with the key he had given her, stepping warily into the silent apartment. She removed the shoes and coat, calling out his name, "Lucas, you here?"

She found him a few moments later in the living room, sitting on the couch. He was hunched into himself, staring blankly ahead as if seeing nothing before him but his own thoughts. Peyton frowned with concern, stepping cautiously toward him, "Luke?" She touched his shoulder and he flinched back, his eyes closing painfully.

"Luke, what is it? What's wrong?"

"…Brooke Davis is pregnant…she says the kid's mine…"

Peyton took in a shuddering breath, swallowing back her own heartbreak to focus instead on the hurting man before her. She watched worriedly as he sank to his knees before her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her stomach and she felt the beginnings of his deep, broken sobs.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She stroked his hair, unable to find words but forgiving him in her silence. He tightened his hold on her in response, clinging desperately to the one anchor he still had in his life.


	8. Chapter 8: The Good Fight

**Circle of Friends**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Eight: The Good Fight**

_Atlanta, 2013_

The silence that had since fallen between them was uncharacteristically tense, Peyton worriedly watching Lucas as he sat across from her with his eyes downcast, idly scrapping his fork against his empty plate, pie long since finished. More concerned for her best friend than her dishware, she reached over and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Luke, talk to me."

He heaved out a heavy breath. "David wasn't the only thing Brooke and I fought about."

"What else was there?"

He shifted uncomfortably, "She wants to have another baby."

The sinking feeling in Peyton's stomach seemed almost prophetic as he raised his eyes to meet hers, dark with tragic anguish. She asked him quietly, "What did you say?"

"That we can't," he sighed, dropping his head down into his hands.

Concerned, Peyton began to reach for him and then hesitated, remembering the topic at hand. She let him be, waiting for him to continue.

"It's not that I don't want to, because I do…I do want another baby. I just…I can't, Peyton."

"Why?" she relented to her desire to touch him, taking his hand. The warmth of his calloused palm enveloped hers and she pressed a kiss to his knuckled, heart strained at the weary look in his eyes. "If it's because of me…I would never resent you having a family, Luke, you know that--"

He cut her off. "That's not it, Peyt. And I know that, I've always known that. Thank you though," he returned her earlier gesture, gently kissing her hand, "It's not that I won't, it's that I _can't_. I can't make another baby. I'm sterile, Peyton."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Atlanta, 2010_

For Professor Lucas Scott, things around his home were, for once, blissfully quiet.

He sat at his desk, located the master bedroom of his home, diligently grading papers belonging to the students in his English Lit class. It was nice to have the type of peace that rarely enveloped the Scott house- between Brooke's constant domineering and her socialite friends constantly visiting, the hyperactivity of their toddler son and the ever-present hired help; it was seldom he was alone enough to get much work done.

He grunted softly in response to a sudden, sharp ache in his lower back and below, shifting uncomfortably in hopes of relieving the lingering pain in his nether regions. Almost of his own accord as he hoped for a distraction, his eyes strayed from the papers to the framed photos dominating one of the corners of his large red-oak desk. He smiled softly at the familiar sight of his mother and Keith in a warm embrace, David's two-year picture, mouth turning downward slightly as his stare landed on the Jagielski-Sawyer family photo.

Jake and Peyton seated side-by-side, Jenny at her father's side, Peyton's son Alexander in her mother's lap. Jake's arm was around his girlfriend's shoulders and Peyton leaned trustingly against his side, one hand entwined with his. All were smiling; all were comfortable with one another.

They looked happy. It wasn't a happiness he could begrudge them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Tree Hill- November, 2008_

It had been tradition for as long as Peyton could remember for her to have Thanksgiving dinner with Lucas and his family. The last two years, however, she had spent alone or with friends from school; with her mother and Wyatt's deaths a barely healed wound in her heart, her and Lucas's falling-out too fresh on her mind, she had stayed away from Tree Hill. But this time, no matter how awkward or strange the past year, she couldn't refuse the direct request for her presence Karen gave her over the phone. Even then if she was hesitating, an email from Lucas hoping she was coming, as well as a subtle invite to bring who she saw fit, sealed the deal in a way she could not refuse.

She wasn't sure if having Jake at her side made meeting Brooke and her three-month-old son all the more easier or difficult, but somehow she survived the ordeal. The child warmed her heart despite herself, but Brooke still had her on edge. The smile she received from the beautiful, distant woman was cordial but too tense to be comfortable, the look in her eyes clearly screaming territorial as they cast a side-glance in Lucas's general direction. Peyton knew she probably wasn't much better, but she held her tongue, did not break down in tears when she held David for the first time and received a sleepy smile, did not balk when Karen embraced her and welcomed her as the "prodigal daughter finally come home."

Like every year, the meal was held at the Scott home and a random assortment of guests attended. There was, of course, Keith and Karen, Lucas, his wife and son, Whitey Durham, a couple of Lucas's old friends, Skills and Mouth, as well as their families, and lastly, her, Jake and Jenny. It was probably simultaneously the happiest and the most uncomfortable she had felt in a long while, immersing herself in old friends and family but still ever-aware of the presence of the woman responsible for breaking her and Lucas.

Soon enough, the need for air became imperative, but when she stepped outside, she found a surprise in the form of Jake and Lucas standing on the porch, quietly talking over a couple of beers. Jake was the first to notice her and he gave her a reassuring smile in response to her obvious apprehension at seeing the pair together. He exchanged a few more words with Lucas, shook the other man's hand, pecked Peyton's cheek as he passed, and disappeared into the house. Left alone with her former lover, Peyton cast him a wary look, though he did not look in her direction.

He was staring out into the yard, silent as he took a deep drink from his bottle. "Do you love him?"

Peyton swallowed hard against the lump rising in her throat, but as always with Lucas, she could never give him anything short of complete honesty. "Not yet."

He nodded, quietly thoughtful. "I just want you to be happy." A beat as he paused. "Let him make you happy, Peyton."

And with that, as they stood together in silence, she knew she had his blessing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Atlanta, 2010_

Lucas sighed softly, resolutely turning his gaze away from the picture frame. Intending to turn his attention back to his work, he winced as yet another interruption came in the form of a shrill yell suddenly echoing through the air.

"LUCAS SCOTT!!"

He inwardly groaned as he looked over his shoulder to take in the form of his "loving" wife standing in the doorway. Her pretty face was distorted into a deep scowl, and oddly enough, she was holding up a pair of his boxer-briefs. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

He arched an eyebrow. "What in the hell?"

"Care to explain why the housekeeper found it necessary to report that she's been finding bloodstains in Mr. Scott's laundry for the past month? Or the fact that's it's your underwear she's finding stained four or five days a week?"

At his blank expression, her expression darkened even more. "Waiting on an explanation here, Lucas," her lips twisted into a sneer, "You going to tell me you're secretly gay and you like it rough? Is that why you can't seem to get it up in bed anymore?"

He closed his eyes wearily, leaning back in his chair and with the next words that left his mouth, malice drained away from his wife's expression as quickly as the color left her face.

_Savannah, GA_

"God, he's growing so fast."

Peyton smiled at the comment coming from one Ellie Harp, the blonde woman standing nearby at a rack of children's clothing, gazing at the child in Peyton's arms with loving affection. Alexander squirmed a little in her embrace, green eyes dancing as he gave his grandmother a wide grin.

Ellie and Peyton shared a fond smile as Peyton pressed a kiss to the top of her son's head, placing him back in the shopping cart's child-seat. "Isn't he? I swear, not only does he eat me out of my paycheck, he grows so fast I have to replace his clothes every few months."

Ellie smiled, holding up a shirt for her inspection. "He's a growing boy. What can you do?"

"Nothing, I suppose." She thoughtfully watched Ellie move through the aisle, perusing through the boys' clothing with an inspecting eye. Not for the first time, she found herself glad Ellie had taken the time to make the trip to see her and Alexander.

Her friendship with her biological mother hadn't been easy in the beginning; in fact, it had been turbulent. But a year down the road from their first meeting had her grateful to have the older woman in her life. No one could ever replace Anna Sawyer, but Ellie was a warm presence in her heart, always there when she needed her, always ready to put her life experience to use when it came to giving needed advice. And the fact she adored Alexander wasn't a bad point either.

"So what are you going to do?"

The question broke Peyton out of her reflections, Ellie's expression solemn now as their conversation took a serious turn. Peyton heaved out a heavy sigh, knowing all too well what she meant by the inquiry.

"What else can I do? I'm going to Atlanta."

"Are you sure that's wise? After everything that happened between you and that Lucas boy? And now that you have Alexander…"

Peyton smiled weakly, running her fingers through Alexander's head of golden-brown hair. "I know. But it's Lucas. I have to."

Ellie sighed, placing a hand against her daughter's shoulder. "I'm not discouraging you, sweetie, I'm only playing devil's advocate because no one else can. What about your gallery? What about Jake?"

…Jake…

A few years back, when they first met, Jake Jagielski hadn't made his interest in her much of a secret. Lucas hadn't seemed all that bothered: Jake was his best friend; Peyton had always been, in some shape or form, his girl. But then the life they'd tried to make together came crashing down around them and things between them went to hell. They tried for several months to salvage even the barest remnants of their friendship but in the end, they were only left with frayed, broken pieces that to this day they hadn't been able to put back together completely.

Without the promise of Lucas Scott waiting for her, New York suddenly seemed far too harsh, far too cold, and far too lonely. Tree Hill wasn't much better since her mother and brother's passing and a strange salvation came one afternoon in the form of a phone call from Jake, wondering if she was coming South for the summer to see Lucas and family. Two weeks later, she moved herself to Savannah and the warm comfort of his friendship. That friendship developed into something more, they let their relationship remain at a standstill, that last line between them spelled out L-U-C-A-S.

Then there was that strange Thanksgiving and with Lucas's acceptance, they moved forward.

Their time together had been wonderful. Jake was good to her, and already a parent, he had more than welcomed Alex into their lives after she found out she was pregnant. She adored his daughter, Jenny, now a pretty, precocious ten, and the sentiments were returned full-force.

She knew what Jake wanted. He wasn't the type to be deceptive, nor to push her into something she was against, but it was clear-as-day that he desired a family, a commitment from her. And no matter how she loved him, she knew it wasn't what she could give him. She couldn't do that to him.

In her life, there was always one big roadblock called Lucas that reared its head, and this time was no different. It would never be different.

"Jake…he'll have to accept it. I can't give him what he wants from me and as much as I hate to say it, Lucas will always be first in my life."

Ellie nodded her understanding, stepping forward to embrace the younger woman. Peyton sank into her arms, grateful for the comfort.

"Sweetie, if you don't might me asking…what's wrong with him?"

Peyton's chest tightened painfully as her heart clenched, but somehow, she still managed to answer in a weak whisper. "Cancer. He has prostate cancer."


	9. Chapter 9: Innocence

**Circle of Friends  
**By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Nine: Innocence**

_Atlanta, 2013_

"Allison."

"Sarah."

"Megan."

"Zoë."

"Stephanie."

"Hilary."

"Samantha."

His lip curled into a smirk. "Maude Gertrude."

She slapped his arm. "No one should be that cruel." As Lucas laughed, her efforts to keep up a chastising expression were quickly surrendered, and instead, she reveled in the soft sounds of his mirth. The revelation of his sterility, and memories of his illness, had eased into a lighter rapport in their efforts for distraction, finally resulting in a discussion surrounding baby names as they bantered back and forth with different options.

Lucas grinned again as he idly flipped through the baby name book sitting between them, reclining back comfortably in his chair. "So Haley got at you toohuh?"

"Yeah. She says she needs help this time when it comes to picking out a name. I can't blame her, considering this is number four."

"And _another _girl at that." He snorted, resting his arm across the back of her chair as he leaned forward, the two of them once more perusing the book. After few minutes, he looked up at her thoughtfully, testing out a name as he spoke aloud, "Hannah Grace."

She cocked her head, considering. "Hannah means 'Grace', right? The double meaning is nice, but it might be overkill."

He nodded, conceding her point. "True." He did however, have another suggestion no long after.

"How about Jordan?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Jordan? Like the shoe? I bet Nathan would love that one."

"No, like the River Jordan. It says here," he took her hand, resting her fingertips against the printed passage he was referring to, "It means to descend, or flow. This baby is a new life and like life, her existence from now on is going to be ever-changing, ever-flowing. Just like the river."

She was silent for a long moment, staring at him with quiet awe. "You know, sometimes I forget just how brilliant you are."

Lucas blushed and tempted as she was to kiss the shy smile that ghosted over his mouth, she settled for his cheek instead, their hands lingering in their hold as fingers entwined and they sat together, comfortable in their quiet.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Tree Hill- April, 2005_

Lucas remembered well his first meeting with Haley James. From the first time he set eyes on her, his heart ached for her.

His sophomore year spring break, he came home to his family and Peyton, only to be greeted by the fact Dan and his dysfunctional clan were coming to Tree Hill to spend Easter with his bio-father's parents. Lucas was dubious when his presence was requested to greet them upon arrival, but with that reluctant reliance to Dan in the form of his finances, he surrendered and agreed.

On a warm, balmy April afternoon, he was introduced to Haley James- a fresh-faced sixteen, all warm innocence and sweet smiles- Nathan's fiancée. His stomach lurched as he imagined the sweetness and the innocence of the girl before him smothered beneath both the Scott name and Nathan's arrogance. He confronted Nathan the first chance he was given.

"What in the hell are you thinking?"

Nathan cast a sour look in his brother's direction as the elder stepped out onto the porch, clearly irritated. He rolled his eyes, looking away to stare out into the yard. "What business is it of yours?"

"She's a child, Nathan."

"She's legal. We have parental consent."

"That's beyond the point. You can't honestly be thinking of going through with this."

"I don't have much of a choice in the matter."

The blonde's mouth curled in disgust. "I forgot. You're too much Dan's lapdog to make your own decisions."

The younger man snorted derisively. "What would you know about it, bastard?" when Lucas bristled at the reference to his illegitimacy, Nathan smirked smugly, "Isn't this hypocritical anyway? I'm not the one sleeping with a seventeen-year-old."

Lucas's jaw tightened. "Don't even go there."

"Then don't interfere in things that don't concern you."

Nathan turned to leave and Lucas stared after him, narrowing his eyes at the younger's retreating back. "You'll destroy her." His voice was hoarse, choked back with emotion as he found he could feel nothing but dread over what would become of that young woman's spirit.

Nathan glanced back at him over his shoulder, his expression unreadable as he gazed at his half-brother with blank eyes. "What else is new? This family crushes everyone."

And with that, he disappeared back into the house.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Have I told you how glad I am that you're home?"

Lucas grinned at Peyton's wry comment, pecking her lips. "Once or twice, but it's always nice to know I'm wanted."

Peyton leaned forward with a sly smile, teasingly skimming a hand down his bare chest as she brushed her mouth against his, teasing her tongue against his lips. Her ministration earned a growl from Lucas and when she pulled back, he swayed into her, seeking her lips. She kissed him lightly and then separated from him. "Always. I always want you, Luke. You have to know that by now."

He nodded. "I know," he told her gently, "I know."

It seemed they had been gifted with the strangest stroke of luck over the past few days- granting them much needed time alone. When it came to the Sawyers, Larry was currently out at sea and Anna…Lucas was almost positive she knew about him and Peyton, and how intimate their relationship had become. Mother's intuition, he supposed. But so far, she had raised no objection and tended to turn a blind eye to Peyton occasionally staying the night at his place, giving them their privacy. Lucas would like to think it reflected the fact she trusted him with her daughter. Keith had taken Karen for an overnight trip to Charleston, and with their absence, the young couple had relished the very rare opportunity to sleep the night through, side-by-side, in the same bed.

Peyton had awoken in the late morning hours in his bedroom by way of sunlight streaming through his open window, bare skin caressed by the soft breeze blowing into the room, wrapped up in sheets where her lover's warmth and scent still lingered. She had lain there languorously until he had soundlessly entered the room and gained her attention with his caressing fingers skimming up her arm, and a delightful surprise came in the moment when she opened her eyes and smiled at him, wherein he presented her with breakfast in bed.

"What do you think any of the parental units would say if they knew where I'd really wanted to spent my holiday?"

He grinned, "And where was that?"

She leaned forward over the food between them, ghosting a kiss against his mouth. "Your bed, of course." She nibbled on a piece of toast, arching an inquisitive eyebrow. "Well, what do you think?"

He smiled, taking a hearty swallow of his orange juice. "My parents? Not sure, but it wouldn't be good. Can you imagine how your dad would react?"

"His head would explode," she finished off the apple she had been eating, licking the juice from her fingers. Feeling him watching her, she glanced up to meet eyes so darkened with desire they were rendered a smoky cobalt blue.

"Luke?"

"Hmm?"

"Speaking of beds…"

He quirked up an eyebrow. "Do you think this one is suffering from neglect?"

Peyton laughed softly as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her toward him. "Oh, yes."

"We ought to fix that."

She linked her hand around his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers. "Absolutely."

The kiss was hard and fast from the start as she poured into it all the longing and passion she'd held for him in the weeks they had been separated. She nipped at his bottom lip, moaning with abandon as he slid his tongue into her mouth, no hesitation present as he quickly set the breakfast tray aside. She buried her hands into his hair, attacking his mouth with fervor as he ran his hands up her thighs, parting her legs to pull her closer to him, urging her to wrap them around his waist.

She obeyed his silent request, legs hooking around his hips just in time to give her balance as he cupped her buttocks, dragging her down. He crushed her to him as he pitched them both to crash forward into the mattress. The new position molded her against his body, all of her within his reach as his hands ran feverishly over her body; Peyton mewled with pleasure as his pelvis angled into hers, allowing her to feel him hard and wanting against her inner thigh. Somewhere in the process, she ended up pushing his pants down to his ankles, him working on the buttons to the pajama top she'd borrowed from him when a sudden gasp broke through their passionate haze.

"Oh, sorry!!"

The couple shot apart as quickly as explosive shrapnel at the unexpected interruption, their eyes darting to the doorway to spot a very mortified Haley James, her face flushed a beet-red as she had slapped a hand over her eyes.

"I am so sorry!! I didn't mean to interrupt!"

Though Peyton buried her face in her hands with a helpless moan, Haley looking close to hyperventilating in the doorway, Lucas, fairly embarrassed himself, couldn't help but chuckle. He rose from the bed, pulling up his bottoms, went to his dresser and slipped on a t-shirt. "It's alright, Haley. We can go out to the living room." He self-consciously redid the ties to his sweatpants, praying the tension Peyton had left him in would fade quickly.

Though still blushing heavily, Haley removed her hand from her face and gave him a nod, casting one last glace at Peyton before scurrying off to the other room. After she left, Lucas sat on the edge of the bed, regarding his girlfriend with a mixture of amusement and exasperation as he found her practically cocooned in the blankets. He gently pulled down the sheet, revealing her disheveled head of curly hair and the sheepish smile she gave him once exposed. "Why are you shy all of a sudden? If I remember right, you were the one jumping me last night."

She flushed, nestling her head against his shoulder to hide her face against the fabric of his shirt. "Dunno. It's different when it's just us, I guess. She glanced up at him shyly. "Sorry," she mumbled, feeling uncomfortably like the blushing virgin she hadn't been in months.

He smiled, "It's alright. It's cute." He dropped a kiss to her forehead, standing once more. "I'll go see what Haley wants. Why don't you finish breakfast before it gets even colder? I'll be back soon."

She nodded and he gave her a smile, before leaving the room to find his inquisitive, young brunette visitor standing in the living room, curiously examining the family photographs on the mantle.

"So what is it you need?"

Haley jumped at the sound of his voice, her head whirling around. She studied him standing at the edge of the hallway, leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest- hair mussed, clothes wrinkled but much more modest than the eyeful she'd received earlier, his expression questioning but friendly.

"I…I wanted to talk to you…I…um…"

At first, she was discomforted by the family resemblance he bore to her fiancée, and consequently, her future father-in-law, but the closer she looked, the more she noticed the differences. The more rugged, mature look to his face, the softer blue of his eyes, a gentle, thoughtful air about him the likes of which more than Nathan could ever hope to achieve. He smiled at her and she visibly relaxed.

"I-I am sorry, again. I shouldn't have walked in like that…should have knocked-"

Lucas waved his hand dismissively, "Don't worry about it. No harm, no foul. Besides, it was worth it."

"How so?"

He laughed softly. "Always worth it to see a cute girl blush. It was adorable- you and Peyton both."

Almost against her will, she found herself turning red again, but took no offense to it, knowing he wasn't mocking but merely teasing good-naturedly. Then again, he had called her cute…that was a bit blush-worthy. She cleared her throat, hoping to divert the subject a bit. "Peyton? Was that the woman with you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. That's my girl. If you stick around a bit and she finally gets over being so embarrassed, you can meet her. I think you'd like her…she's not much older than you, and she knows how to deal with a Scott boy."

There was a soft, contented look to his face as he spoke of this Peyton and the more his smile grew, the harder she found it to fight her own smile. Eventually, she grinned at his besotted expression, commenting knowingly, "You love her."

She clapped a hand over her hand, horrified she had said something so audacious to a near-stranger but Lucas only gave another of those soft laughs- he seemed to do that a lot when in a good mood, and she found she rather liked the sound of it.

"I do," he replied, "Very much." He settled himself into a nearby armchair, motioning for her to do the same. "So not to be rude, but what is it you wanted to talk about, Haley James?"

She sat on the couch across from him, watching as he kicked back and tucked his arms behind his head. "I saw you and Nathan the other day, at the Easter dinner. I wasn't eavesdropping or anything, but your body language was kind of obvious."

His expression hardened a little, but she had a fair idea it wasn't toward her but rather the subject of conversation and he nodded for her to continue. "I know you don't get along well with your dad's family and the idea of my marrying Nathan makes you really uncomfortable…but I have to ask you not to get involved."

A look of pure surprise passed over his face and Haley sighed, looking down, "I'm not the type to dance around things, so there it is. You seem like a really good guy and I really appreciate how worried you seem about me, but I'm worried about you too if you get mixed up in this. I don't want to see you get hurt just because you were concerned."

She glanced up, giving him a wan smile. "I might not look it, Lucas, but I'm a big girl. I know what I'm getting into. I know Nathan's type. I've been expecting this for years. It just comes from being who we are." She bit her lip uncertainly. "If you don't mind, though, I'd really like us to be friends. Personally, I think you're the best this family has to offer."

Lucas's awestruck, befuddled expression soon melted into a warm smile and a muffled chuckle as he stepped forward and pulled Haley up, drawing her into a friendly embrace. "You're one of a kind, Haley James. I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather have as a sister-in-law."

Her face lit up as she drew back enough to look up at him. "Thank you."

He nodded, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Haley met his eyes, saw their soft look, and wondered at the warmth of the brotherly gesture. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Want to? No. Need to? Yeah. I'm a James, Lucas. I've been destined for this since I was born. I'm not a bride- I'm a business merger."

He smiled sadly. "I'll stay out of it, but I want you to be careful, Haley. I'll be here if you need me, alright?"

"Alright."

They drew apart and Peyton chose that moment to poke her head curiously around the corner, looking a bit more settled in a clean pair of jeans and one of Lucas's button-downs, hair combed and pulled back into a messy bun. "Luke?"

Lucas looked up, his face lighting up as he motioned for her to join them. She stepped forward uncertainly, leaning into her lover's side as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, meeting the curious brown eyes of the newcomer she'd only been briefly exposed to.

Haley held out a hand to her, smiling hesitantly. "Haley James."

Peyton returned the gesture, shaking her hand, and with the more relaxed, confident look that settled over Haley's features, she herself smiled warmly. "Peyton Sawyer. I'm glad to meet you, Haley."

"You too."


	10. Chapter 10: Fathers and Sons

**Circle of Friends**

By Alaricnomad

A/N: I'm kicking the rating of this chapter up to M. I've kept this story at a respectable T until now, but the muse kidnapped my brain and wrote this. So, be warned of language and heavier sexual content.

Also, I'd like to share in my good news with you all. I'm officially a father as of yesterday, when my girlfriend and I welcomed into the world twins John Michael and Moira. I'm truly a blessed man.

**Chapter Ten: Fathers and Sons**

_Atlanta, 2013_

"Mommy? Uncle Luke?"

The two adults in question turned their heads toward the groggy voice that broke through their conversation. Their interruption came in a mussed tangle of blond curls, wrinkled fire-engine pajamas and sleepy hazel eyes that blinked up at them over the stuffed dog the child held nestled against his chest.

Peyton separated herself from Luke, unconsciously straightening in her chair as she studied her son. "Alex, what's wrong?"

"Mommy, my throat hurts." The child's voice was hoarse in clear evidence of his illness and when he released a harsh, racking cough, Peyton was immediately out of her seat, kneeling before him, placing a hand against his forehead.

Lucas looked on with concern as she let out a relieved sigh at finding a cool brow- a welcome sign his cold was beginning to wan instead of getting worse- and took the child by his hand to lead him to the table. Alex climbed into a chair beside Lucas and Peyton scuffled into the kitchen, mentally counting the hours since she had given the boy his last medicine dose, "Hang on, baby. I'll get your medicine."

Alex made a face. "I don't want that stuff. It's yucky."

"You have to, sweetie. It'll help you get better. I promise."

Alex turned pleading eyes on his "uncle" and Lucas was sympathetic, but held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, kiddo. Gotta do what your mom says."

The younger blonde pouted, folding his arms tighter around his plush toy as he murmured something like, "traitor." Lucas sighed and reached out, running a hand through the boy's matted curls. Never one to hold a grudge, Alex peered up at him with wide, sleepy eyes and when Peyton returned with the cough syrup, it was two pleading looks she was met with instead of one.

Smiling inwardly, she sighed her defeat, knowing there was little she could do to resist- especially in light of a full frontal attack of the puppy dog eyes from both of her boys. "If I get you some juice afterward, will that be better?"

Alex nodded and the compromise was made. A spoonful of medicine and a long chorus of gagging noises later, he plopped himself down in his uncle's lap while sipping on a cup of apple juice. The juice soothed his sore throat and despite the roughness of his voice, he babbled on happily as he informed his uncle of all the goings-on he had missed in the four days they had been separated.

Eventually, inevitable in his age and illness, his mouth began to stretch into long and seeking yawns he tried to smother, unable to hide the fatigue from either of the adults. Peyton shared an amused look with her friend, "Time for bed, sweetie."

Alex immediately protested, "No!! Mommy, I wanna stay and talk to Uncle Lucas."

"Uncle Lucas will be here in the morning," Peyton glanced over the child's head to meet Lucas's eyes, relieved as his nod of affirmation, "The quicker you go to bed, the quicker it'll be morning and I bet you can talk Uncle Luke into making you pancakes." Lucas smiled but agreed as he lifted the boy into his arms, Peyton listening to the sound of their soft conversation as the two most important men in her life disappeared down the hallway.

Peyton's lips curled into a smile as she sat back down in her chair, turning her attention back to the baby book she and Lucas had been perusing through. She flipped through the pages with a bit more carelessness than the pair had given the book, only giving her attention to the names she was actively seeking.

Lucas. Derived from Lucian, Lucan or Luca, meaning light. A perfect fit to the man who had worn it since birth.

David Jonathan. David- beloved. Jonathan- gift from God. A strangely contradicting name for the child who had so innocently invaded so many lives. In many ways, David truly was the gift his name implied. He was a Scott through and through- good looks and charm, but there was sweetness to him that was so clearly Lucas. He was Lucas's son, his little boy, not matter his paternity and Lucas loved him so deeply. But she knew, despite himself, while it would never be the child's fault, David would always be a shadow on his father's heart. Deep down, there was a dark resentment at the chains that bound him that would always embitter Lucas and though he would never mean it to, Peyton had the sinking feeling it was inevitable David would come to sense the ill feeling from his father as he grew older.

Alexander Gareth. Alexander- defender of mankind. Gareth- the gentle knight of Arthurian legend. She couldn't have thought of a more wonderful tribute to the gentle man who had become everything in her life- her hero, best friend, brother, lover, and protector…everything that mattered.

Alex Scott was every bit his father's son. There was no way Peyton could ever deny Lucas that.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_New York City- March, 2008_

"Dammit, Peyton, why are you always doing shit like this?!"

"Maybe if you weren't such a fucking asshole all the time!"

The argument had escalated quickly and violently as a tornado tearing down onto the ground. A crowd had long since gathered around them, though the spectators chose to keep a safe distance given Peyton's habit for wild gesticulation and the glazed look of barely restrained fury in Lucas's eyes.

The other occupants of the townhouse- Peyton's roommates Thomas and Lila, as well as Lila's boyfriend Jack, were on the sidelines. They had all been awoken by the shouting, startled to not only find a strange man in their living, but the fact their normally easy-going friend was screaming like a banshee at said stranger. Lila stood nearby, her face pale and wrought as she worried her lip with obvious concern. Jack was beside his girlfriend, an arm around the latter's shoulders, his irritation increasing tenfold with every moment Lila continued to radiate growing anxiety. At this point, no one even really knew what it was the stranger and Peyton were fighting about in the first place.

Finally, he caught Thomas's eye and both men nodded with unspoken understanding, moving simultaneously toward the arguing pair, Thomas toward Peyton, Jack to Lucas. They then proceeded to drag the violently-protesting duo toward the back door; Jack tossed Lucas out into the alley behind the apartment building, and Thomas gave Peyton a firm shove out the door.

Thomas shot them disapproving looks as Lucas picked himself off the ground, Peyton glaring at them, but he held his peace and went back inside. Jack, however, was seething.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?! You're acting like children! Stay out here and roar at each other if that's what you need to do, I've had enough!"

The level of vehemence exhibited by the usually soft-spoken man stunned Peyton into a sense of reality as her friend stomped away, the door slamming shut behind him, the sharp noise resounding through the alleyway.

Lucas exhaled sharply, rubbing his fingers against temples beginning to throb with the definitive pain of a growing headache. "Wonderful," he murmured viciously, "Fucking wonderful."

Peyton snorted, her lips curling into a sardonic kind of smirk. "Who are you to talk?" she hissed, "Self-righteous jackass."

Lucas's face contorted into an enraged expression, reaching up in a flurry of motion to grab her arm and slammed her against the side of the building. Peyton bit her lip to keep from crying out as she collided with the concrete of the wall, joined a moment later by his body pressing close to her, and this time, it was another reason why she restrained from making a sound. In spite of everything, the man still felt so damn good.

"Ow, Lucas, what the fuck are you doing?" she snapped, trying not to notice the defined pressure of Lucas's arousal against her thigh.

Lucas leaned down, his face inches from hers, his breath heavy and panting, hot against her skin. "Jackass you call me," he murmured, "What's worse: that's I'm a jackass, or that you're just a bitch? But you're right, who am I to talk? Words don't work between us anymore, only this." And with that, he snaked a hand between her legs, pressing his fingers against her center at an angle he knew would get to her.

This time, Peyton couldn't hold back a loud, throaty moan as the stirring of arousal that came with his proximity turned into a blazing heat at his touch. She whimpered low in her throat, bucking her hips against his hand, and he rubbed his thumb against her once more before withdrawing.

He pressed even closer, working his thigh between her legs, and even through the rough fabric of their jeans, the intimate contact still elicited a strangled cry from her. With his blood roaring in his ears and erratic pulses of lust and pleasure rolling through his body, he pushed forward, his lips colliding with hers.

He buried one hand in her thick hair, tilting back her head to deepen the kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, a shiver of pure ecstasy running down his spine as she returned the kiss with equal fervor. With his free hand, he tore at the restraints of her pants, and Peyton complied without resistance, allowing the pants to be slid down and off. Her own fingers fumblingly worked at the zipper on his jeans, and she snapped open the button, her hands finally meeting the hard flesh beneath the denim.

Never breaking the kiss, Lucas's hands wrapped around her legs, lifting her, leaning her back against the wall. Her body tensed as cold fingers touched her intimately, expertly sliding against her to make sure she was ready for him. But she found herself distracted by his mouth at her throat, nipping his way down the slender column of her neck, a red trail of love bites blossoming against pale skin.

He forcefully entered her, slamming them both against the wall, and she hooked her legs around his waist, arching against him with every deep stroke as he moved inside her. She screamed unabashedly as every strong, powerful thrust sent them crashing into rough concrete, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She felt the reverberating tension in the muscles beneath her touch, the taste of salt against the flesh beneath her lips and tongue as she bit down into his shoulder a vague sensation in the fog of pleasure.

Together, they rode out the waves of pain and pleasure and his deep baritone, hoarse with uninhibited passion, joined her as he roared out his satisfaction. His hips moved feverishly against hers as they moved against each other as if at war, but somehow seemed to move together at the same time as they raced faster and faster toward climax.

Lucas reached between them in search of the little nub he knew would stimulate her high, and he stroked her, their pace frantic now, the air punctuated with every move by their grunts and moans of building pleasure. The final culmination came harsh and unyielding, like a crash of thunder in a storm, a splash of cold water in a drought, their bodies arching and straining under the force of their simultaneous orgasms.

Spiraling back down to reality, Peyton fell back limply and Lucas with her, their bodies shaking and both panting with baited breath as their hearts hammered in twin cadence like the reverberation of a ritualistic drum. Her vision was clouded and hazy as she stared out into the opaque night surrounding them with hooded eyes, her gaze straying to the mark on his neck. She traced his finger over it, mildly surprised to find the indentation of her own teeth.

"Peyton," he whispered, his hands gliding up her back, his touch gentler now, soothing in a way had Peyton not been suddenly, and fully, aware of their earlier circumstances.

"Yeah?"

"What happened to us? How did we end up like this?"

"I don't know," she replied candidly, her fingers entangling through the fine hair at his nape, curling slightly in its sweat-damp state, "Honestly, I don't know." She sighed, letting her hands drop from him as she felt him leave her body, letting her to his feet. She did not glance his way as she worked back up her underwear and jeans, hearing the tell-tale sound of his zipper being done up.

Lucas looked away miserably. He felt the familiar weight of a hand on his shoulder, and he suddenly felt so tired…too tired to fight anymore, too tired to push Peyton away. Instead, he let his head fall back, taking in the endless expanse of the star-streaked sky.

"You and me, y'know, it's the stars. You and me, the way we used to be, it's as unreachable as them. You can take a ship or a satellite as far above the hemisphere as you want, but you'll never be able to hold one in your hands like the jewels they seem." He scoffed softly, surprised at himself, and he kicked at the dirt, awkwardly clearing his throat. "Ah, well, hell, if that philosophical shit isn't anything like me, I don't know what is."

"Maybe you're right," Peyton commented softly.

"Am I?"

"Mmm…Maybe what we used to be is unattainable now. Maybe…just maybe…that means that we're meant to start something new, something we can settle for."

"Do you really think so?"

"I know so."

"Alright then," and the hint of coy confidence coloring Lucas's tone was oddly comforting in its familiarity, "What you say goes, as usual."

"Good," she replied, turning around to face him with a flash of her old smile tugging at her lips, "Cause I'm game if you are."

Lucas smiled back, allowing him to be tugged forward as Peyton grabbed his collar and kissed him, sweet if far from chaste, and a cementing promise between them to try again, try harder, and make it forever this time.

But he knew they couldn't fix what it was they wanted most. The only thing they could make forever was what they knew in their hearts. It was their friendship, their camaraderie; they were repairing…not their love.

"Let's go back inside, baby," the endearment fell softly sweet from her lips as she reached out to him. He took the offered hand, his palm gently enveloping hers as she led him back inside. They were quiet with reentering the apartment, Peyton tightly grasping both his hands as she guided him to sit on the sofa.

He sighed softly, stretching out on his back and resting his head in her lap. Peyton stroked his hair, meeting his gaze with tender eyes as he looked up at her tiredly. "You want me to stay with her," he murmured matter-of-factly, his voice no longer holding any of its previous accusation…only resignation.

"That's not what I was trying to say. You've already made your decision, Luke, whether you try denying it to yourself or not."

"It's not what I want," he protested weakly.

"It's what you need," she corrected gently, running her thumb along his forehead to soothe away the wrinkles of thought furrowing his brow.

"The baby's Nathan's. It doesn't have anything to do with me."

"Mmm, but you already love it."

He surrendered wearily to her point, "Yeah…yeah, I do."

"Then you know what you have to do."

"I want to stay with you."

"Then stay," her response was returned simply, but the torn indecision was evident in his eyes.

"But I can't let Haley find out about this. And I can't abandon that baby. It's mine- I don't care what Brooke or blood say."

"You see? You've already decided."

He reached for her hand, entwining their fingers. "I don't wanna lose you," he whispered hoarsely.

"You'll never lose me," she raised their joined hands, brushing a kiss against his knuckles. "You just can't have me that way you want."

"I know, but…"

She shook her head. "No, don't use me as your excuse or your reason, Luke. I'm not going to beg or plead with you to stay with me, no matter what we both want. I've had three months to come to terms with the idea of letting go of you, Lucas, and before that when we weren't talking, the possibility was always there for over a year."

She smiled sadly. "I'm a big girl. I can accept what the world's thrown at us. And I know you, baby. You can't just walk away from this. Your heart won't let you."

With that, the decision was made.

He closed his eyes, nestling further into her lap. "I love you," he whispered fiercely.

"I love you too, Luke." She continued to caress his head, letting his soft blonde hair sift through her fingers as she felt him slowly relax, his breathing growing slow and deep. A sudden rustling sound caught her attention and her head snapped up, careful not to disturb Lucas. Her eyes met those of the shadowy figure she recognized as Jack. His expression was indiscernible, but with nothing more than a lingering look to the man lying before her so vulnerably, he retreated back into his and Lila's room, leaving her to ponder.

Lucas, having felt her tension, shifted and groggily questioned, "Peyton, sweetheart, what's that matter?"

"It's nothing," she continued to stroke his hair, recalling how over the years it never failed to calm him, "Sleep, Lucas. I'll be here in the morning."

"Promise?" in his half-dazed state, his voice was childishly plaintive, like a little boy pleading with his mother. Still, she smiled softly, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

"I promise. I'll always be here when you need me."

And with that reassurance forefront in his mind, Lucas slept.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Good morning."

Never a morning person, Peyton stared blearily at the cheerful woman who had greeted her, muttering her gratitude as Lila placed a cup of coffee in her hands. "Morning, Lila."

The other woman nodded, leaning back against the counter as she curiously perused her friend. "So what's the story with John Doe over there?"

Peyton glanced back into the living room where Lucas was still asleep on the couch, right where she had left him. In memory, she rubbed at the crick in her neck she had acquired from crashing there. "Just a boy."

"An ex?"

Peyton took a sip from her coffee and smiled behind the rim. "Not quite."

Lily cocked an eyebrow, amused at her evasion but still clearly confused. "I'm not following."

Peyton shrugged, "He's everything," she answered simply, as if it answered all the questions the other woman could have.

And strangely enough, it seemed to, given the wistful look that came over Lila's face and the thoughtful smile she gave Peyton.

"Morning, girls." Jack, being the big man he was, seemed to lumber into the kitchen, wearing only his boxers and rumbled hair as he made his way to the refrigerator. He took out a carton of orange juice, but a pointed glare from his girlfriend had him lowering the container sheepishly before he took a sip.

As Lila moved to retrieve a glass for him, mumbling under her breath about devolution of manners, Peyton cast a contemplative look in Jack's direction, keeping her voice low enough for only the two of them to hear."

"How much did you hear last night?"

His face was impassive and he shrugged. "Enough."

Peyton only nodded, not sure what else to say.

"This is going to be hard on you, isn't it?"

She glanced at him and sighed, nodding once more. "Yeah," she murmured, "Yeah, it will be. This is going to hurt like hell, but I'll make it work."

"Is he worth it?"

"He's always worth it."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Twelve weeks later, at only twenty, too distracted to have noticed sooner, Peyton Sawyer discovered she was pregnant.

And Lucas Scott had taken his wedding vows five days before.


	11. Chapter 11: Eden

**Circle of Friends**

By Alaricnomad

A/N: I'm not sure about this one, but just to be safe, I may have to kick it up to M again. Just consider it a borderline between the T and M ratings.

Friends, I have no excuse for this chapter. I couldn't help myself. Honest. I was abducted by the muse, and it refused to let me go before I wrote this. And everyone knows fanfiction muses have no shame. So really, there's no real plot of any kind.

In response to several readers' questions: many people are asking how Leyton could have a baby if Lucas is sterile. The answer is that Alex was conceived two years (if you check the dates) before Lucas received his cancer diagnosis, and it was the treatment he went through afterward that left him incapable of having children. I hope that clears up the issue.

**Chapter Eleven: Eden**

So focused on the book open before her, she nearly jumped with surprise at the hands that suddenly came to rest on her shoulders. Without looking back, she knew it was Lucas returned from putting Alex to bed and she immediately relaxed. Strong fingers began to rub her shoulders and she unconsciously arched against his hands, seeking more of his touch. Lucas smiled, whispering into her ear, "Hi."

"Hi."

"So I was thinking."

"What about?"

He gently prodded her to lean forward, moving his hands down her back. "Alex's birthday is coming up."

"Mmm, yeah. Next month."

"I know he wanted to have his party at the zoo where David had his. But there's a big difference between July and December. So I was thinking he might want to go to the aquarium."

She chuckled, her voice colored with light humor. "I take it he showed his pictures. He's been on an underwater kick for weeks."

He flexed his fingers, kneading firmly at a particularly nasty knot in her lower back. "He wouldn't go to bed without showing them to me. Seems some talents are genetic."

"He's not that much like me. He has a lot of his father in him too."

His hands stilled and he fell silent for a long moment, Peyton glancing over her shoulder to quietly study him. He nodded without a word, renewing his massage. "Fair enough."

"I think the aquarium is a good idea. Would David be alright with that?"

Lucas smiled softly. Only five months apart, the boys had never celebrated their birthdays without one another. "Absolutely. He loves spending time with Alex."

"Good. So, Atlanta or Chattanooga?

"I suppose it doesn't really matter. Atlanta is closer…"

"It'll depend on how much time we have, I think."

"It's a plan then." His hands stopped once more and he stared at her contemplatively for a moment before he leaned forward, brushing his lips against her nape. She tensed beneath his touch and took in a sharp breath, her head dropping back to grant him better access as he trailed kisses down her neck, gently tugging down the collar of her sweater to nip at her shoulder.

Her breath grew baited, her heart pounded with wickedly talented attentions of those silken lips, but when a soft moan spilled from her throat, Peyton snapped back to reality and moved away from him. She turned around to face him and Lucas returned her gaze with puzzlement, eyes dark with desire but full of inquiry.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" his voice was thick as velvet, washing over her in its sensuality and she tensed, rising to her feet to put some distance between them.

"Touch me like that. It's not right."

"Who says?"

"The Bible. Polite company. Any decent person. Any morals we have left," a beat as she paused, "Your wedding vows."

His jaw tightened. "Screw it all. I'm sick of doing the right thing."

She opened her mouth to reply, but unable to find the words, she snapped it shut and sought to put distance between them instead. Much to her chagrin, with every step she took back, Lucas followed after, and before long, she was in the middle of the living room with him standing nearby- close, but not invasive. His expression was placid, his stance calm- he could be patient. He'd waited five years to be with her, twenty-eight to find a forever with her- he could wait a little longer.

"Lucas, don't do this…"

"Don't what?" he asked huskily as he took another step forward, Peyton making no move to stop him this time. "Don't be tired of following the rules? Don't be tired of giving up everything so everyone can be happy but us? Don't ask that of me, Peyton. It's not something I can give anymore."

He was close…so achingly close. She could feel the delicious warmth radiating from his body, his every breath- every exhalation, every brushing word- fanning across her skin. All she had to do was reach out and touch him…reach out just a little and he would be hers. Finally hers.

Peyton squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing thickly but holding on to the last tendrils of resistance.

"I'm tired of pretending. I'm not going to anymore. I love you, Peyton. That hasn't stopped." He caressed her cheek gently. "It's your choice now, sweetheart. What do you want?"

She opened her eyes once more, dazed and heady with need. She reached out and slipped her fingers into his belt loops, pulling him to her.

"I want you," she kissed him hard and delighted in his instant response as he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against the warm strength of his body, "God, do I want you."

"Then have me."

It wasn't really an offer she had the mind to refuse.

Mouths met and clung.

Touch took on a life of its own.

It was lips and tongue and teeth, hands and fingers and entwining limbs. Taste, touch, smell and sound were enhanced so sweetly by their longing to make up for time. Tangled up in each other wherein they hardly knew where one began and the other ended, they clumsily began making their way down the hall. Never one for patience in the realm of touching her, Lucas surrendered to the need to have her, calling for a halt as he backed her into the closest wall.

He broke away, reaching down with familiar precision to unsnap and unzip the restraints to her jeans. Peyton leaned back, breathless as he pulled down her pants, her underwear with them. Calloused hands slipping beneath her bare thighs for leverage finally broke her fuzzy awareness. Confused, she pushed at his hands. "What are you-?"

"Don't worry about it," was his simple reply, as he sank to his knees, effortlessly lifting her upward to rest her legs against his shoulders, creating a strange diamond shape around his head as her feet were still caught in slippers and pants.

Startled by the new position and the strange sensation of the cold wall against her buttocks, she protested, "Luke, you really don't have to-"

"Well worth it," he looked up, lips curling into a small smile, "Unless you want me to stop…?"

An extended pause, a silence, only to be broken by a sudden moan. Her fingers pulled at tawny hair and she fiercely shook head, "God no."

"Thought so."

There was something about the intimacy of having a lover that knew you- knew your body, knew what you liked, knew just how to please you. And Lucas knew her so well, knew just how to make her body sing. There was comfort in his familiarity, pleasure in his knowledge, and God help her, she loved this man.

Somewhere between his bringing her to the brink again and again, making her body feel things it hadn't known in what felt like eternity, they finally found themselves in her bed, skin free of bothersome clothing. And he sank home, her body welcoming him to her as if he had never left. Feeling him inside her after all this time was the most incredible thing she could have ever experienced (apart, perhaps, from the first time she held Alex in her arms and realized what sort of miracle their love had created).

She should have seen it coming, but somewhere between a mind still numb and buzzing from his earlier attentions, the euphoria of being one with him, she'd failed to notice, but when she did…her heart ached. The tension screaming through his body, the unsteady pace of him moving above her…the sweat beading against his forehead and pooling against the back she clung to…the occasional grimace of discomfort passing over his beautiful face. (2)

She opened her mouth to question, plead, ask him to stop…she wasn't sure what she planned to say, for she never had the chance as he released a strangled moan, shuddering with the violence of his release. She held him to her as he collapsed, murmuring incomprehensibly against the crook of her neck, trembling as she stroked his back.

He left her body and shifted against her. She wondered if he was still in pain, and questioned, "Luke?"

He attempted to roll away but she held fast. She'd always liked the weight of him against her. Besides, with the way he was avoiding looking straight at her, she wasn't letting him so anywhere. "Luke, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice low and almost inaudible.

"For what?" she ran a hand through his hair, raising his chin to get a closer view of his expression. Taking in his flushed face and glassy eyes, remembering his pain, she was sure she should be the one apologizing. He looked away again and realization clicked into place.

He was ashamed of himself.

"Luke…Lucas, look at me. Tell me what's wrong."

He quietly obeyed, unable to deny her even in his self-loathing. "I'm sorry. I thought…I thought it would be different, cause it's you…but I guess it was just me…" he rolled his eyes and sneered with self-disdain, "It's just me that's pathetic. I can't even please you."

"Lucas…" she sighed softly, reaching over to cup his face, "It's not pathetic. You were sick, baby. And you're alive. That's what matters to me. Not your sexual prowess."

"Why, Peyton?" he snorted, "God, my own wife cheats on me…why would you want me?"

Her head snapped up. "She's cheating? Since when?"

"Probably since we got married. Stopped hiding it after we found out I was sick," he winced. "Sorry. Really not the best thing to bring up right now. Especially considering how hypocritical it is…" he swept his hand around, gesturing to the tangled sheets and the two of them among them, making his point.

"It's okay. It just helps to make the point."

"And what's that?"

"That you're being an idiot," she stroked his face, wondering at the twists in his logic. She hadn't realized his relationship with Brooke had left such a deep impact on him. What had that woman done to his head if he associated deserving her affection with pleasing her in bed?

"You listen to me, Lucas Scott. I'm not expecting some Harlequin hero in my bed. Just you." She kissed him softly. "I love you, Lucas. I don't need to be seduced, or impressed, or swept off my feet. I just want you."

His eyes closed, a slow, contented smile sweeping across his lips and she found herself smiling in return. She brushed a kiss against his forehead and she turned out the light, snuggling against him. "Just hold me tonight, Luke. That's worth the world itself."

He slipped his arms around and held her close, nuzzling against soft skin. And found she was right: just that small thing, to hold her again, was worth so much.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He was awoken the next morning by the sensation of silken hair brushing against his chest. Groggily, he cracked open one eye to watch the blonde head working its way down his chest, the soft lips trailing over his skin finally registering with him as he let out a strangled groan.

"…Peyton…?"

"Good morning," she glanced up at him briefly, caressing her fingers along his ribs as she nibbled at his shoulder.

"Morning…oh!"

She smiled with satisfaction as she pulled down the sheet, running questing fingers down his sides and hips, finding their way to his thighs. She stopped, watching him inquiringly and he blinked, staring back at her in confusion.

She leaned over him, her hair falling like a curtain around him as she sought his lips, kissing him softly, teasingly. "If I took it slow…do you think you would be okay?"

His brow furrowed with question. "I…guess…?"

The answer seemed to satisfy her as she did continue touching him, but when her head disappear beneath the covers, he had a pretty good idea what it was she was asking.

Oh shit.

"Slow is good," he gasped, his head falling back against the pillow, "Slow is really good."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He lay back against the bed, chest heaving as he stared at the ceiling with a dazed expression. Peyton snuggled up against his side, resting her head on his shoulder, watching her lover with a mix of amusement and confusion. "Luke?"

"I think I've gone stupid," he softly declared, his brow furrowing, more thoughtful than concerned.

She raised her head at that, "What on earth are you talking about?"

"My brain…it just refuses to function."

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his chin as she nestled back against his chest. "Is that good or bad?"

"Good. Very, very good."

"Glad to hear it."

"So what happens now?"

"I suppose…we stay like this for a while and then go from there."

"That I can agree too," He nuzzled against her hair, sighing. "I vote we never leave this bed."

She tilted her head up once more, meeting his eyes with a soft smile. "Sounds nice, but we'll have to get up eventually."

"Not if I can help it." Striving to prove his point, he rolled them both over, covering her body with his.

She arched a brow in surprise, but sighed contently as his lips found the hollow of her throat. "Where did this come from?"

"Let's just say I found some inspiration."

"Yeah, but seriously," she cupped his face, stopping him long enough to force him to look at her. "Don't push if you're not ready, Luke."

He looked down at her. His breath picked up…his muscles tightened and tensed, surging with heady intensity...his blood buzzed with energy, warming and rushing southward…his nether regions stirred…he ached…he needed…

Like hell he wasn't ready.

He kissed her and then moved against her, letting her feel the evidence of his arousal. Her eyes widened but then she smiled, linked her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth back to hers.

Despite the bothersome heat, he was certain it couldn't even compare to the intensity of the white-hot sensuality rising up between them. And what an amazing way to burn.


	12. Chapter 12: Inspiration

**Circle of Friends**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Twelve: Inspiration**

_Atlanta, 2013_

When she awoke to the feel of a body beside her later that morning, Peyton froze. Her breath caught and she bit hard at her lip, praying fervently that the vague memories she carried of the night before weren't just another fantasy contrived by her longing mind.

Hesitantly, she rolled over to face him, gazing up at the handsome face of her lover, slack and peaceful, listened to the slow rhythm of his relaxed breath. Wanting reassurance of his presence, she scooted closer to him and without his eyes opening, his arms reaching out, loosely slipping around her. She leaned further into him and he guided her to lie on her side, facing away from him as her back pressed against his chest. He then proceeded to drape an arm around her waist to hold her close, moving his legs entwine with hers.

The sheets had fallen to his waist as he shifted around in his sleep, offering a clear view of the body that had loved her so thoroughly in the preceding hours. It was a body she knew inside and out- so many times she had sketched him in their younger years (in various states of undress, as her boldness had grown with her age) and she studied him now with the same levels of fascination she felt then.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Tree Hill, 2004_

He had watched her with an artist's attention to detail, azure blue eyes fixatedly following every movement and expression, gesticulation and word. Those eyes had memorized her; the slender, lithe body, the beautiful features of her face- pert nose, full lips, subtle-cut cheekbones, a faint splash of freckles, slender curve of her neck- to the breathtaking green of her eyes.

For her part…her hand moved with a silent confidence, seeing her subject so clearly in her mind's eye- every detail in living Technicolor. The graphite of the pencil softly scraped against the paper, forming a muted replica of the exquisite subject she had in mind, lining and shading to her heart's content as she moved with her own whim and pattern; lost in the rhythm of her creation. She looked up as he shifted yet again, watching with amusement as she found him staring.

"Would you stay still for five seconds?"

Lucas lowered his eyes from their extreme interest as Peyton's voice broke through her reflections. It surprised him that though it was obvious she tried to be chastising, her tone was colored with a brand of fond exasperation, and hinted with amusement. Deciding to take advantage of the good humor, he idly swung his legs back against the stool he was seated in, his mouth curving into a grin. She sat at her easel, poised over her latest creation, wryly raising an eyebrow. 'Well?' was the unspoken message.

He gave a faux frown and he submitted to the unspoken tug-a-war, obediently repositioning herself into her desired pose. Her eyes danced as she sought to work again, but she could not resist the urge to study him. He was obediently seated on the stool, but she was beginning to regret the pose she'd asked of him. In a rare moment of daring, she'd asked him to strip down to the most bare she'd ever seen him- completely nude except for a blanket covering everything from the waist down.

Lucas was a startlingly attractive man, with a rugged and masculine face that looked at if it had been crafted by some wild genius, proportioned with angular features and narrow lines that melded together both a sculpted male beauty and a rugged charm.

"_..Pey…"_

Eyes whose shade were a richer blue than she had ever seen, beautiful against his swarthy complexion, dark and turbulent as a raging sea and yet so gentle. Thick golden-brown hair that fell roguishly disheveled, never fully tamed even when given some semblance of order, falling forward but still unable to shield the soulful intensity of his gaze.

"…_ton…"_

Encouraged by his stillness, she let her eyes brush dance once more against his skin, pausing at his stomach, warm skin over firm musculature. His chest rose and fell steadily with each deep breath as she continued to explore, trailing upward to trace the defined muscles of his chest, on his shoulders and arms. It was a strange sensation, to see him like this, but she couldn't stop the fascination as she let her eyes trail over him, cataloging every fine detail. He was solidly built but not overly bulky; wiry with muscles rippling beneath tawny skin. His shoulders were broad, his arms strong, and his stomach smooth and flat. Her eyes idly followed a thin strip of fair hair trailing downward and she followed it to the edge of the blanket, unconsciously reaching up to pull it down further before she realized what she was doing and dropped her hand, flushing.

"_Peyton."_

Dark. Passionate. Dangerous.

Handsome. Gentle. Caring.

"_Peyt."_

Luke.

"Peyton!"

Her eyes wide with surprise, Peyton sheepishly looked up at her boyfriend, watching his eyes dance with laughter as he watched her. "You back with us, space cadet?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"S'okay," Lucas smiled, his eyes hooded as he glanced at her through the dark lashes of his eyes, "There's plenty in here that's captivating to look at."

Peyton's face heated. Somehow, she didn't get feeling he was talking about himself, or her drawings.

As she continued in silence, a ghost of a smirk danced across Lucas's lips.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Atlanta, 2013_

"You looking at me like that's unfair. I don't think I can take anymore."

She chuckled, nodding wordlessly as she took in his amused eyes. A dark imprint she hadn't before noticed caught her eye and she placed an insistent hand at the small of his back, encouraging him to shift to his side. She studied what she found on his right shoulder-blade- the tattooed miniature of a jet-black raven, not much larger than the width of two fingers. "When did you get this?"

He watched her through half-mast eyes as she traced her fingers along the lines and edges that made up the tattoo's design. "Couple of years ago."

"Why didn't I get to see?"

"It was private, I guess. You're the first to see it," he paused, "I got it around the time my book came out."

She nodded thoughtfully, stroking her fingers over the sketched-in skin. She remembered well when he'd finally accomplished his lifetime dream: publishing "An Unkindness of Ravens".

"How appropriate."

He caught her hand, raising it to his lips to press a kiss to his palm.

And he smiled.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Tree Hill, 2006_

It had been a pleasantly sunny afternoon and the young couple had foregone either of their cars in favor of walking to his mother's café to have lunch- only for the heavens to open up and unleash a downpour of cold rain down on them two hours later. They raced into the Scott home, laughing as they came together in a series of light kisses, slowly stripping away each other's clothing as they went.

"Ugh," left in nothing more than her underwear, Peyton pulled back, running a hand through her matted curls. "I'm going to grab a shower." She gave him a teasing smile. "You wanna join?"

"Mmm," he leaned in to kiss her sweetly, lingering for a moment just to savor the feel of her lips against his, "I would, but I have work in a couple hours. I go with you…we'll never get out of there."

She reached out to skim her hand against his chest, naked with the loss of his t-shirt. His skin was cold and suddenly raised with goosebumps; he could attribute it to the chill, but he knew the truth- her touch did affect him so. "There's a lot to be said about athletic stamina," she grinned and let her hand drop, "Your loss then. If you change your mind, you know where I'll be."

Giving him a wink, she sauntered off toward the bathroom. Cocking his head, he watched swinging hips disappear around the corner and he smacked himself upside the head, groaning. "You're an idiot, Scott," he muttered to himself, "Either that, or gay."

Listening to the sound of the shower starting, the heat spiking in his belly erased any doubts about his orientation and seeking to distract himself, he made his way back to his bedroom. He quickly toweled off and dressed. Seeking out his computer, he returned to the living room to wait out his girlfriend.

The room was quiet and comfortably warm, the only sound the steady clicking of fingers flying across the keyboard of the laptop resting in his lap. His attention was focused entirely on the screen in front of him, only to be diverted when he heard the soft click indicating the bathroom door opening and she stepped out into the living room, looking wonderfully comfortable in a pair of faded jeans and an oversized sweatshirt bearing the emblem of his university. She offered him a small smile, hands at work as she rubbed at her hair with a towel.

"I see you made yourself comfortable," she commented mildly as she wandered further into the room. His eyes returned to the screen and he made a noncommittal sound, eliciting an eye-roll from her as she ran her hands along the bar separating kitchen from common room, stopping on the ceramic jar in the corner.

Despite himself, he once more found his concentration drawn elsewhere as she casually approached the armchair he was reclined in, munching on something. She leaned down, brushed her lips against his temple and whispered, "Kiss?"

He turned his head, "Do you even have to ask?"

Just as he was leaning in, her hand approached and he suddenly found himself with his mouth full, the sweet taste of chocolate instantly melting against his tongue. Unable to muster enough indignation to glare with the distraction of the candy, he settled for a blank expression as he obediently chewed.

She gave him a wry smile, "Of course I don't- not with your chocolate obsession."

"Tease," he growled.

An arched eyebrow, "And just how many times do you plan to accuse me of that?"

"As many as it takes you to admit it."

"Then I'll admit it freely, baby."

He grumbled under his breath and she soothingly cupped a hand against his jaw, tilting his chin to better angle his mouth to hers. He responded instantly, seeking deeper contact and she relented, letting him guide through their passion.

When they parted, he sighed softly and she smiled. He returned the gesture, nuzzling against her and feathering kisses against her cheek.

"Affectionate today?"

"Just feel like it," he pressed one last kiss to her neck, leaning back to pay mind to the neglected computer.

She perched herself on the arm of the chair, leaning over to better see what was distracting him. She arched an inquisitive eyebrow, "Is this what I think it is?"

"Could be."

"Let me see," resting her chin against his shoulder, she commented, "'An Unkindness of Ravens.' Huh. Seems oddly suiting."

"Had to come up with something."

"No worries. It fits just fine." She paused thoughtfully, "You know, you're going to need my expertise for this."

Amused, he laughed softly, "And what expertise is that?"

"A decent point of view of yourself, babe. I know you- you're not going to give yourself enough credit. It's your life you're basing things on, isn't it? I was there for some of it."

He glowered, but quickly gave in. "Alright. Fine."

A soft kiss to his ear, "Don't take offense, Luke. I'm just stating the obvious."

"Yeah, yeah."

She gave him another of those "the cat got the canary" smiles, her eyes straying once more to the screen, "Am I in it?"

"Hmm-mm."

"Wonderful. I'm going to be famous."

He snorted, "Hardly. But I'm glad you approve."

He turned his head, catching her lips in another quick kiss before his hands returned to the keyboard. His companion stayed quiet, leaned back and watched the story unfold.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Atlanta, 2013_

There was a shift from the body beside her, a hand reaching up to brush the hair out of her eyes, amused blue eyes meeting hers, "Hey, where'd you go just now?"

Peyton smiled, propping herself up on an elbow to face her bedmate, "Nowhere really. Just lost in my head," she tapped her temple, "You need a map to get around there."

Lucas hummed thoughtfully, lightly skimming his fingers down her arm, "It can't be as crazy as mine."

"I concede. Nothing could be as insane as what goes on in your head. It's a place no mortal should dare intrude."

He arched an eyebrow, "Should I be offended?"

"All in play, baby."

He shook his head, leaning forward, skimming his lips against her collarbone. She shivered at the contact, cupping the back of his head to draw his lips toward her own, meeting in a soft, chaste kiss.

He pulled back a moment later with a smile of content, "So I've been thinking."

"Should I be scared?"

"Depends. I'm thinking, this whole 'just friends' routine's just been shot to hell."

"I have to agree," lying back against the pillows, she released a soft laugh. "We just can't seem to help ourselves, can we?"

"Not particularly."

She pursed her lips, "What are you ready for?"

When he gave her a genuinely confused look, she laughed softly at the cutely clueless expression. "Luke, honey, this situation is so complicated it's ridiculous. And in the end, the next decision is yours. You have to decide what you're ready to do," she frowned, "I love you, Luke, and I've missed you so badly, but it can't be like this. I won't be your other woman anymore. We both deserve more than that."

He stared at her blankly. "But this…we…we haven't…not before tonight…"

"We would be what they call an 'emotional affair'. At least that's what Ellie calls it. We've been straddling the line for too long, Luke…you know that."

He buried his face in his pillow and groaned, his voice muffled as he replied, "God, Peyton, this is…"

"I know," she reached down to lightly grasp his hand, "I know."

He raised his head to look at her, forehead furrowing with thought as he stayed silent for a long while, as if in deep contemplation. "Okay," he said finally, his eyes locking with hers, "I'm going to call my lawyer on Monday."

"Lucas…"

"I'm serious. I'm going to ask for a divorce."

Peyton bit her lip and sighed, turning away from him. "What about David?"

Faced with her back, Lucas frowned. "I'll file for full custody."

"How can you do that? If it comes out you're not his biological father…"

"Exactly."

She glanced at him quizzically. "What are you planning?"

He smiled softly, running his fingers through those curls he loved so much. "Don't worry about it yet. Trust me, sweetheart."

"Always."

Though she allowed herself to be drawn into his embrace and accepted his kiss, Peyton couldn't help feeling uneasy.

"He's not going to disappear the moment you take your eyes off him."

A pair of slender arms wrapped around his waist, accompanied by the press of a soft body against his back. He looked over his shoulder to give her a sheepish smile. "I know. I just…"

"I know," she repeated, smiling softly.

They stood together in the hallway, in front of the open doorway leading into Alex's room. They both stared into the shadowed contours of the bedroom, watching the sleeping silhouette of their son. Peyton turned her attention back to her lover, brushing a kiss against his nape. Lucas gave a contented sigh, his head falling back, and Peyton skimmed her lips down his neck, ending with a lingering caress to his pulse.

He turned toward her, slipping his arms around her and Peyton nestled into his embrace, resting her head against his bare chest. He leaned his head atop of hers, "When I put him to bed, just before he fell asleep, he called me Daddy."

"Of course he did," she pressed a kiss to his shoulder, "He knows the difference between 'Daddy' and 'Uncle Luke', baby. He's a smart boy, just like his dad."

He nuzzled against her hair. "Thank you, Peyton. God, thank you."

It both amused her and touched her heart that even after all the years Lucas had known his son; he still seemed in awe every time of the life he had helped to create. She still remembered the time she had told him she was pregnant: Brooke was five months along, he was newly married, but still, he utterly delighted in the idea they would share a child together. A baby of his own- his child…more importantly, _her _child. Together, they had kept Alex's paternity secret, to all but the two of them, and one precious little boy.

"It's nearly ten," he said softly after a short silence as they just basked in their embrace, "Should we wake him?"

"Yeah, probably. I'll get him up and in a bath," she leaned up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss, then gave him a playful shove toward the kitchen, "You go and start on those pancakes you promised your son."

His chest seemed to swell with pride at her words. "You mean the pancakes you promised him?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Same difference."

He grinned, "Yes, ma'am!" and gave her a salute before he sidled down the hall. Peyton watched him go, listened to the sound of his laughter and smiled. She suddenly felt the strangest itch in her fingers to be sketching. She sighed, shaking her head with amusement.

"It's always you, Lucas Scott. Just you," she mumbled, half-amused, half-exasperated, before making her way to wake Alex.


	13. Chapter 13: Absolution

**Circle of Friends**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Thirteen: Absolution**

"Am I really doing the right thing?"

Peyton looked up from her canvas as the solemn voice broke through her concentration, turning her head to study her lover sitting at the window, staring out into the rain. "David?"

"Yeah. Taking her son away from her. It should feel wrong."

"Do you think you're doing the right thing?"

"Yeah…yeah, I do. I'm the only father he's known. He needs me. Just like I needed Keith."

"There's your answer."

She smiled softly and he returned the gesture. He leaned back against the window-seat, regarding her thoughtfully. "You know…he told me once- Keith, I mean-that despite how much he tried to stick by my mom when she got pregnant with me, be her rock…he couldn't stop being wary, couldn't stop having doubts. But then he said…he held me for the first time after Mom gave birth and he looked into my eyes. He knew those eyes, he said…not his, but he knew them, and suddenly something about my eyes had me the most precious person in his world."

I felt the same way when I held David…but that's the thing, Peyt. He opened his eyes for the first time…and those eyes, they were Scott eyes, but they weren't mine. I can call him my son under I'm blue in the face, but those eyes still aren't mine."

"You're his father in every way that matters, Luke. That's all anyone can ask for."

"You really think so?" His voice was close now and she realized he had crossed the room to stand beside her.

"I know so."

"Glad to hear it." He nuzzled against her and she felt his smile, more prominent as he softly pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck, hands rubbing her shoulders- a clear repeat of the first time three nights ago.

She leaned back, meeting his eyes as his lips trailed lower, tongue swathing lasciviously against her pulse. She tilted her head encouragingly as the hands stroking her shoulders moved slowly down, the fingers skimming along her arms sending a sensual shiver down her spine, his hands locking with hers.

Peyton came to him willingly as he drew her to her feet and slowly guided her to face him, his gaze dark with unmistakable intensity as his gaze focused on her lips, unconsciously wetting his as they slowly gravitated toward one another. They leaned close, so achingly close as their foreheads met, hearing his heartbeat pick up as her fingers brushed ever so slightly against the palms of his hands, twining through his.

"Lucas," every brush of warm breath against his lips with every word she spoke was torture.

"Lucas…"

"Hmm?"

She drew back, the heat sparking between them far too palpable to be safe and he found he had to bite back a groan as she moved from him. Thick lashes feathered against her skin as her eyes closed, and he lightly skimmed his knuckles against her cheek as she sharply exhaled, putting more definite space between them.

"It's…it's getting late. Are you coming to bed?"

He groaned at the invitation, leaning back against the chair she had vacated, glancing at her with a pained expression. "You know that's not a good idea."

She frowned, some part of her wanting so desperately to protest, to hold on to the familiarity of him, despite knowing how dangerously they were edging that line again. They'd agreed not to be intimate again until his divorce was final. What she hadn't counted on was finding it so hard to keep her resolve. "We've shared a bed platonically dozens of times before, Lucas. What makes you think we're not made out of stronger will than that?"

"Because…" and his voice was low, hoarse, "I'm feeling anything but resistant. If I go in there with you, Peyt…there's only going to be one outcome."

She averted her eyes from his, licked her lips as she hesitated, her mouth suddenly dry. "Luke…"

He was close again, edging so much closer and his hands were shaking slightly as they came up to frame her face, tilting her chin up so her eyes met his. "Peyton…if I'm weak, then I'm weak."

He let his hands trail downward, resting against her hips. "What about you? Tell me you're made of stronger stuff, and I'll go bunk on the couch."

Peyton hesitated, searching his eyes before submitting, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands skimmed the waistline of her pajama bottoms, calloused fingertips teasingly running across the skin at the small of her back. She ran her fingers through the tawny mess of his hair, his mouth just a breath away from hers as she whispered to him. "Not strong enough, baby…not near strong enough."

Surrender.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"What do you want from me, Lucas?"

Lucas Scott's expression was indecipherable; his eyes hard and unyielding as he stared down his wife, seated across from him. Before him were the papers spread across the table- their divorce papers.

"No more than what I've already asked for."

"…you want to take my son…"

"No. I want _my_ son. You'll just be giving me the child you gave birth to."

"He's still my baby."

"He's far from being a baby, Brooke. And if it wasn't for me, you would have had him raised solely by nannies. The only way he's yours is biologically, and relying on genetics in this family can only end badly."

They found themselves at a standstill, staring each other down. She looked away from him "Okay."

"Okay?" he questioned dubiously.

"You're right. Once upon a time, having the Scott heir meant everything, but then that hypothetical baby got a name and a precious face and a beautiful smile…" she sighed, tiredly rubbing her fingers against her temples, "He's my son, Lucas. But I've never been a mother to him. You can give him what he needs. I know that."

"Alright," he reached over with his pen and quietly added his signature to the papers, "Brooke, about Nathan…"

"I'll talk to him. It's the most I can promise."

"That's enough," he slid the paper across the table, watching as she signed them without hesitation. "I'll make arrangements for you to get half the yearly allowance Dan sends for David."

Brooke shook her head, visibly surprising him. "No. I don't want it. That family is foul, Lucas, and I should have figured it out sooner," she smiled softly. "You're the only good thing that man ever gave the world. No matter what happens, you need to keep our boy out of his reach. By any means necessary."

"By any means necessary," he agreed- the look in his eyes hard and resolute in a way that told her he was ready to do just that, without question. She nodded with satisfaction as he placed papers and folders back into his briefcase and prepared to leave.

"I want visitation rights."

He paused in the process of sliding on his coat, glancing over his shoulder to give her an indiscernible look. "Will you use it?"

She gave him a sad smile. "I hope so," she hesitated, "Lucas…"

"Hmm?"

"…don't feel guilty…"

His head shot up, startled. "About what?"

"Loving her. Being with her."

He looked at her bemusedly. "How did you know?"

"About the two of you? It's as plain as day."

"No, about what I'm feeling."

"It's in your character," she smiled softly. "It's just part of who you are, Lucas. Even I know you well enough to realize that."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He nodded, fixing the collar to his jacket and grabbing his briefcase before turning to leave.

That afternoon, the fragile veil of spring warmth was ripped away by a sudden thunderstorm, the rain pounding down to the earth in heavy, unyielding torrents. He could hear it echoing off the tin roofing above his head, could see the hazy mist of the perspiration fogging up his bedroom window.

He threw his bag to the floor, not carrying of its destination, sighing softly as he set aside his wallet and cell phone, taking off his watch. He loosened the buttons to his shirt as for a long drawn-out moment- all he could hear was the sound of the rain and all he could feel was the slight shock of the cold air against his naked skin as he shed the garment, intent on a shower.

Though he had not heard anyone approach, somehow the light touch of a hand against his side did nothing to startle him. He sighed, neither rejecting nor welcoming the touch. "Peyton, what are you doing here?"

Slender fingers worked their way down his sides, gently tracing the outlines of his ribcage. "When was the last time you had more than one decent meal in a row, Luke? You're supposed to be taking care of yourself."

He snorted. "Forgive me for not wanting to cook when my only dinner companion is silence," he stiffened beneath caresses meant to soothe him and moved out of her reach, "Why are you here?" he repeated vehemently, "I don't hear from you, you don't return my calls for a week, and then you just show up at my room?"

She winced, wrapping her arms around herself as if to shield herself. Lucas frowned, hurt spiking in him at the implications she would feel she needed protection from him.

"Scared? What is there to be scared of?"

She straightened at his incredulous tone, bringing herself to meet him in the eye. "Of you leaving again, for one."

"Don't you trust me?"

"I trust your love. It's your conscience I don't trust."

Lucas groaned, his eyes closing painfully. "Dammit, Peyton." Reopening his eyes, he determinedly stood before her, bringing them face to face as he placed his hands against her shoulders, "You're scared? Fine. You guilty too? Feeling ashamed? News flash, honey. So am I. Doesn't change the fact that I want this more than anything."

She took a deep breath, watching him warily. "Are you sure, Lucas? Are you absolutely sure? You have to be…I can't have you bailing at the last minute. I couldn't take it again."

He kissed her forehead. "Once upon a time, Peyton, I said no promises. But this…this is forever. That's my promise, baby."

The endearment drew a smile from her. "You know that, after this…there's no going back…"

"I know."

She pressed a kiss to his throat, drawing back enough to look her in the eye. "Regrets?"

"No. Not this. Not us."

"Okay then. No regrets."

"No regrets."


	14. Chapter 14: Rite of Passage

**Circle of Friends  
**By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Fourteen: Rite of Passage**

_Atlanta, 2013_

"So…"

Lucas Scott glanced up at his sister-in-law over the rim of his coffee cup, quirking a questioning eyebrow. "So…" he prompted.

She smirked. "So…you're finally going through with it."

Though it was more a statement than a question, he nodded. "Yep."

"Good," she fixed her eyes on him, a knowing look in their caramel brown, "Your sons need you."

He blinked but before he could make an inquiry, Haley waved her hand dismissively. "Please, Luke, knowing Alex is yours is like knowing the earth is round. Even if it wasn't biological, you would still be his father," she sipped her tea, "And frankly, it's about time you and Peyton got your asses in gear. Especially you, Mr. Martyr."

"Hales," he said slowly, "What exactly do you know?"

"I see more than you think, Lucas." He leaned forward, resting his arms across his knees, and she continued, "I know David isn't yours, at least biologically. I know you married Brooke and claimed another man's baby because you felt it was the right thing to do."

She looked up into his startled blue eyes. "The due-dates were wrong. I was working for Brooke that summer, remember? I know she was in Italy when she supposedly with you in North Carolina. I wish I had spoken up and said something, but you were so set in your decision. And whether Brooke had trapped you or not, you already loved that little boy so much."

She knew he wasn't David's biological father. She thought him to be another of Brooke's overseas conquests. She didn't know the real culprit was the father of her daughters, the man who shared her bed, the man whose ring she had worn for nearly ten years. Her husband, his brother.

He could never tell her.

Catching his pained look, she reached over and took his hand. "Luke, you have given so much for me and the children and I couldn't love you more for it. But it's time for you to do something for yourself. It's time you made you and your own family happy. So suck it up, Scott. It's time to go after what you want for a change."

"You little monster! Get back here!"

Haley and Lucas were jolted out of their conversation by the sudden scream, watching as two blurs flew out onto the porch. Lucas quickly shot to his feet, catching the small and squirming weight of Haley's second child before she crashed into a wall.

"You annoying little brat! Let me at her, Uncle Luke!"

"Uncle Luke! Tell Natalie to leave me alone!"

Rubbing his temples and throwing Haley a look over his shoulder to silently reassure he would take care of the issue; Lucas bent down and relieved himself of his burden, restraining the indignant girl by a firm hand on his shoulder. He turned a stern gaze on the elder standing nearby, "Natalie, tell me why you're chasing your sister."

Blue-eyed, dark hair plaited into twin braids, seven-year-old Natalie had inherited much from her father/namesake. "She pulled my braids!"

On the opposing hand, five-year-old Lauren, from her place wrapped around Lucas's leg, shot her sister a glare. An adorable child, with the face of cherub, Lauren resembled her mother in every way imaginable, from her mischievous brown eyes to her head of chestnut curls.

"Lauren Dana Scott, how many times have I told you to leave your sister's braids alone?"

Lauren winced at the sound of her mother's reprimand, looking up at the adults as innocently as she could. "If she didn't wear those things, I wouldn't have to pull them."

Natalie whirled on her little sister and glowered. "Don't make fun of my braids. Daddy thinks they're pretty!"

"I do at that," for the second time in ten minutes, an unexpected voice rang through the room and Lucas's expression immediately hardened as he took in the sight of his half-brother standing in the doorway.

"Daddy!!" Natalie flew into her father's arms and in a rare form of paternal affection, Nathan allowed the hug. Absent from his expression was the smile, the soft look, Lucas would have wanted to see and when blue eyes landed on his second-born, Lauren squirmed uncomfortably under her father's scrutiny. She quietly apologized to her mother and sister, excused herself, and disappeared back into the house.

Lucas frowned at the interaction, blankly watching his brother as he untwined his daughter's arms from around his neck and set her on her feet. "Go back inside with Mommy, Natalie. I need to talk to Uncle Lucas." He shot his wife a look and Haley ushered her eldest inside, giving Lucas's hand one last squeeze as they parted and gave her husband a warning look. Haley James Scott wasn't the type to roll over to any man- Lucas had always loved that about his sister-in law, knowing she was too strong to ever fully submit to his bully of a brother.

The glass door slid shut after mother and daughter went inside to the penthouse and Nathan's stare bored into his brother. "Where the hell do you get off, bastard?"

With more than a vague inkling of what the younger man was talking about, Lucas calmly returned the stare. "I'm doing what I have to do."

Through the veranda door, he could see Haley looking back at them worriedly. She had hefted the toddler, Amy, onto her hip, the older two dancing around her feet for attention. He nodded to her reassuringly and she headed down the hall, most likely to check on the newborn Jordan Grace.

"He's my son," Nathan growled."

"No," Lucas firmly corrected the other man, "He's mine." He narrowed his eyes. "Besides, what do you think would happen if anyone found out about Brooke and David? Or if it was spilled to the press? Can you imagine if word got to Dan or God help us, Royal? Even your mom's family. What happens to your inheritance after a scandal like that?"

Nathan swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, but his brother only gave him a smug smile. "You wouldn't dare," he rasped out.

"I would," Lucas affirmed and turned to go, "Do we have an understanding, little brother?" the last thing he saw before going back into the house was Nathan's pale face and weak nod. Lucas smiled to himself and pulled out his cell, dialing a familiar number.

He said his goodbyes, passing out kisses and hugs to four of his favorite girls (he seemed to have so many of those in his life- Peyton, his mother, Lily, Haley and all his little nieces- he wondered when he had become such a softie), and waited at the street for his ride home.

When Peyton pulled up in that old Comet she loved so much, she was a sight for sore eyes. As he slid into the passenger seat, the kiss he greeted her with caught her off guard, though not to her displeasure. As they broke apart for air, she smiled softly, touching her hand to his cheek. "Hey to you too. You okay."

"Yeah. Just laying some old ghosts to rest." He closed his eyes and kissed her fingers. "Let's go home, sweetheart."

----

_Tree Hill, 2001_

"Lukey…Lukey!!"

There was warmth that rose up in Lucas Scott, a phenomenally soft feeling enveloping his heart and swelling up in his throat, escaping him as quiet, joyful laughter. Small, chubby arms wrapped around his neck as he scooped his sister up, wide brown eyes dancing with merriment as she responded to him in bouts of giggles.

Standing nearby, a slender, dark-haired woman watching them, Anna Sawyer gave a soft, warm smile. The birth of Lily Roe Scott had been a miracle to a couple trying over a decade for a child was a miracle, but seeing Lucas interacting with his sister was a wonder in itself.

A small hand reached out to grasp her braid and Anna allowed the child's preoccupation as Lily did not pull or tug, only curiously playing with the tufts at the end of the long rope of hair. She glanced over at Lucas, watching with warm affection evident in his eyes, his face soft with a strange mixture of love and wistfulness. Lily reached out her hand to Anna and Anna obediently grasped it, returning her smile as the small palm was enveloped in hers.

"Hi. Is Peyton with you, Mrs. Sawyer? I really like Peyton. She makes Lukey smile a lot. I like that too."

"Well, Peyton's not back yet," and Anna shot a look at 'Lukey', who flushed and cleared his throat, deliberately avoiding looking directly at her, "But I'll tell you a secret, little missy."

"What's that?"

Anna leaned forward conspiratorially, cupping a hand over her mouth. "She likes seeing your brother smile too."

Lily's face broke out into a sunny smile, glancing up at her bashful brother. She affectionately pecked his cheek and giggled at the befuddled expression that crossed over his features. "Yeah. He's a handsome Lukey when he smiles, isn't he?"

"Mmm…I bet my Peyton thinks so too. One thing though, pretty girl."

She blushed prettily, smiling shyly at her. "What's that?"

"You call me Anna. Mrs. Sawyer makes me sound old." Her brow furrowed as her face took on a contemplative look, and she held up the end of her braid for the girl to see. "You don't see any gray, do you?"

Lily laughed again, and Anna's lips twitched with amusement. "No, Miss Anna, I don't see any gray."

"That's good." She made a face. "Here I was thinking I'd gotten old."

Lucas smiled at that and opened his mouth to comment when his mother's voice filled the air, "Lily, lunchtime!!"

The little girl lit up, smile faltering a little as she looked from her brother to the door and back again, clearly torn between what she wanted. Lucas gave her a soft smile, nodding toward the the kitchen. Lily squeezed his neck, pressing her face to his shoulder. "Love you, Lukey," she murmured, nestling even closer to him. He closed his eyes with a quiet sigh, kissing his sister's head.

"I love you too, Lil. Very much."

As he watched Lily happily skip into the house, Lucas turned back to see Anna giving him a knowing look. He squirmed a bit uncomfortably. "What?"

Anna shook her head, giving him a quirky little smile. "Nothing. Just thinking about you with Lily. You'll make a good father some day, Lukey."

He made a face at the teasing nickname and simultaneously blushed at her words. "Huh," was all he said.

Anna smiled. It wasn't every day she discussed fatherhood with a sixteen-year-old boy, the patented "sex-talk" not withstanding. "Have you thought about it?"

"Kids?" surprisingly, he didn't seem nervous in any way, just thoughtful, "I suppose," he gave her a shy smile, "Yeah…I have."

"Good. I'm guaranteed grandchildren then."

Lucas flushed a deep red but didn't deny her insinuation. As if summoned by thought, a maroon minivan suddenly pulled into the driveway. A familiar figure stepped out of the vehicle, shouldering her backpack and calling back as she slid the door shut, "Thank you for the ride, Mrs. Taylor."

Peyton ran up the driveway in all her curly-haired, knobby-kneed glory, gravel crunching beneath her feet. Anna amusedly took note of the soft, almost puppy-dog look, Lucas had as he watched his best friend approach them. Without warning, she dropped her bag on the steps and leapt into Lucas's arms.

The young man blinked with surprise but automatically wrapped his arms around her, supporting her against him. "Peyton?"

"I made it!!"

Lucas spun her around, causing her to squeal with protest, clutching at his shoulders for balance. "Luke!"

He only laughed. "Congrats!!" He knew well how nervous she'd been about a regional art contest her teacher had entered her in. "What happens next?"

She drew back enough to look him in the eye. "I move on to finals."

"That's fantastic," he smiled softly. Peyton returned the smile, opening her mouth to reply when she suddenly heard a soft offer of congratulations from beside them.

She glanced over his shoulder, visibly surprised to see her mother standing there. "Mom? What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you. I figured you'd come here first." It was a familiar complaint from her daughter that the high school let out before the junior high and it wasn't uncommon for her to go to the Scotts' in order to rag on Lucas about it. "Your father's home early."

Peyton's eyes immediately lit up. "Daddy? Where is he?"

"Back home with Wyatt. He wants to take us to dinner."

Peyton nodded and Lucas set her to her feet, their embrace breaking. She looked up at him and smiled shyly, leaning up to kiss his cheek. The scent of him was comfortingly familiar- soap, sweat and leather- and the soft fuzz of his stubble tickled against her skin. His eyes closed and he released a contented sigh, brushing his lips against her forehead.

Peyton's breath hitched and her heart skipped as an unexpected shiver ran down her spine, all her focus suddenly on the feel of warm lips against her skin. A spike of heat coursed through her, unsettling her to no end.

A strange thrill went through him as she blushed for him. He smirked and gazed down at her warmly. "I'm proud of you, Peyt," he pressed another kiss to her brow, "See you tomorrow, sweetheart."

Dazed, Peyton could only nod as he gave her a gentle push toward her mother. If the strange heat his touch invoked was a mystery, the warmth that flooded through her, as well as the odd flutters in her stomach, that erupted at the familiar endearment of 'sweetheart'- something he had called her since she was eight- was equally baffling.

Anna grinned inwardly as she hooked a hand around her daughter's elbow and urged the girl toward the driveway. She waved a goodbye to Lucas and soon lost herself in thought- most of all regarding Peyton and her best friend. It would take time, she knew, before things between the young couple came to fruition. Lucas may have been aware of his feelings for Peyton, but her daughter was still a young, and rather blind, thirteen. Strange and new feelings for the boy who'd watched over and loved her for most of her life was something the guarded Peyton was sure to run from.

Lucas would be patient. Anna could trust that much of him. She knew that he knew as well, her daughter was still child enough not to be ready for the kind of love he would offer her: the forever kind. She wondered still if even the boy himself was ready for such a serious thing. But in the end, he would be the man she could entrust her baby to.

Lucas Scott was, and always had been, in love with Peyton Sawyer.

Anna wouldn't have it any other way.

----

_Tree Hill, 2013_

"Hi, Mom." Peyton leaned down to place a bouquet of lilies upon her mother's grave, "I don't know if you've been watching or not, but I'm happy, Mama. For the first time I can remember, I'm really, truly, happy." She laughed softly. "I bet if you were here, you'd be telling me 'I told you so'. You always told me it would be Lucas. You were right. It's always been him. And he's finally mine."

Peyton rested her hands against the tombstone, closing her eyes as her thoughts quieted and her body relaxed. She could almost feel her there. "I wish so badly you could have met Alex, Mom. He's so much like Lucas and at the same time, I see so much of you in him, too. He reminds me a lot of Wyatt, too. He has that same precociousness, that same spark. He loves life so much…"

She turned to the small grave nearby, tracing her fingers over the engraving of her little brother's name. "Hey, Wy. I miss you, buddy. You get a chance to play a lot? I bet you're pulling pranks all the time. Grandpa and Mom must be out of their minds with your trouble."

"Peyt?"

Strong arms wrapped around her waist, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder. "I'm not interrupting, am I? I just wanted to tell you we have to meet the realtor soon. She wants to show us that house on Maple in half hour."

"Okay." She turned her head to kiss him softly. "I'll meet you in the car."

He nodded and released her, frowning slightly as he noticed her thin sweater, shrugging off his jacket to wrap it around her shoulders. She smiled at him, snuggling into the warmth left behind, taking in his lingering scent. She kissed his cheek and started down the pathway toward where he had parked the car.

Lucas turned back to the Sawyer resting place, resting his hand atop Anna's stone. Somehow, he thought standing here, knowing he was in the presence of his future mother-in-law, felt like a rite of passage. "Hi Mrs. Sawyer. I can't stay long, but I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry it took me so long to get my act together. But I do love her…so much…she's given me such a wonderful life and a beautiful child. You have such an amazing daughter, Anna. I just thought you should know that."

As he kissed his fingers and pressed them to the stone before turning around to follow after his fiancée, he liked to think she was smiling down on them. He could only hope.


	15. Epilogue: Full Circle

Circle of Friends

**Circle of Friends**

By Alaricnomad

**Epilogue: Full-Circle**

_-Excerpt from THUD magazine, June 2014 issue, featuring an exclusive interview with upcoming artist Peyton Sawyer. _

I: So, we all know how critics and fans are raving about your work. What we want to know is where do you get your inspiration?

P: Life in general, I guess. I'm experienced a lot of loss in my life, but at the same time, I've had a lot of good things.

I: Anything else?

P: My family, my past…stuff like that.

I: Speaking of family, I understand you're married?

P: I am.

I: I believe your husband is Lucas Scott? (Peyton nods in the positive) The author, for those who don't know, of 'An Unkindness of Ravens' and the new bestseller, 'Circle of Friends.'" I have to say, Peyton, his books are rather riveting, and the way he portrays your relationship is simply beautiful.

P: Thank you. Lucas has always been talented.

I: How did you two meet?

P: He fought off a bully bugging me back when I was in kindergarten. (laughter) He was three years older and he seemed larger than life. We grew up together and things just went from there.

I: For those that have read his books, they have been given a little insight into your rather colorful relationship. Would you say that influences your work?

P: Absolutely. We've had a…complicated history and when you feel as strongly for someone as Lucas and I always have, it's impossible not to have those feelings spill over into your job.

I: Do you have any particular pieces that you would say were inspired by Lucas himself?

P: I'll admit that there are a lot, but the one I like the most was one of the first I ever sold. 'First Time'.

I I think we can guess where that one comes from (Peyton laughs). But on a more serious note, I have to confess that your and your husband's story is fascinating. Can you tell us more in depth about what went into that painting?

P: It dealt more with the dynamics between Luke and me during our younger years. Lucas was always the embodiment of temptation in my life- from the time we hit puberty, he had this allure to him, beautiful in his masculinity and powerful in his charisma. We had been best friends from the time boys had cooties- when he still delighted in placing bugs in my hair- and still, I couldn't help but be drawn to him. Back then, little was I to know he felt the same.

I: Very intense. What came next? Just friends? Whirlwind romance? First love?

P: (smiles) All the above. We could pretend we were just friends as long as we wanted…but in the end, it wasn't something destined to last. It took us a long while and a lot of road blocks, but we finally got there.

I: Glad to hear it. Tell me, though. Do you two have children?

P: We do. We have four.

I: Four children at twenty-six. That has to be a challenge.

P: It is. You know, we're both still young and we're constantly being lectured about the challenges of adoption or merged families. In the end, though, it was all worth it. A family's what we've both always wanted and now we just need to do our best to make it work.

I: Above everything else, who or what would you say is your biggest inspiration?

P: Lucas. Definitely Lucas. He was…temptation…passion…lust…love…all of it, for the first time, and the last. I never would have chosen anyone different. He's always been there for me. He's shown me things and feelings I could have never imagined. He's my forever and he'll always be there as my inspiration.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Tree Hill, 2024_

"Alex, David, get your butts down here! You're going to be late!!"

Peyton Sawyer-Scott's voice broke through morning quiet of the household, catching the attention of the two children seated at the kitchen table. At the sound of the shuffling, thumps indicating falling out of bed and muffled swearing upstairs, fourteen-year-old Wyatt shared an amused smile with his sister at their brothers' expense. "Real smooth," he murmured.

"That's for sure," was the response from Anna with a roll of her eyes, who at eleven, was already more like her mother than Peyton had ever expected.

Listening to the exchange, Peyton bit back a smile so not to encourage the mocking of their siblings. "That's enough you two. Just eat your breakfast."

Both children agreed. Wyatt munched on his cereal, looking up as his mother passed. Peyton returned his smile, running an affectionate hand through short, black hair as she set glasses of orange juice down for his brothers. Brown eyes watched her warmly and he gave her that slow, sweet smile that never failed to light up his handsome young face. For the thousandth time, Peyton found herself so incredibly grateful for the young man before her.

Eleven years ago, after she and Lucas had married, they had arranged to adopt a baby girl, Anna Elizabeth. But when they visited to the adoption agency, the sight of a young boy sitting alone in the plastic visitor's chairs, had caught Peyton's attention. Four years old and small for his age, of Hispanic descent and born with the name Wyatt Lucas. The irony was too much of a coincidence of her to ignore. That year, the Scotts took home both children.

A few minutes later, heavy stomping on the stairs announced the arrival of her two eldest. Peyton watched with amusement as David struggled to put on one of his sneakers, Alex attempting to smooth down his unruly blonde curls. She sighed and motioned her son over to her, Alex smiling bashfully as she wet her hand under the faucet and flattened a troublesome cowlick. "Did you even use a comb, Aly?"

Alex shook her head, green eyes holding a sheepish glint. "Nah. Sorry."

"Its fine, baby. You're the one that has to deal with the mess. We ought to take you in for a trim soon, though." She glanced over at the table, where David was seated next to his younger siblings. He looked up at her questioningly, thick auburn hair falling into his eyes. "You too."

David blinked, shoving the hair out of his eyes, "I like my hair."

"You can barely see, hon," she pointed out as she set plates of eggs and sausage before the boys, heavier portions for the bottomless pits that were her sons.

David regarded her blankly. "So?"

Peyton sighed dejectedly, leaving the topic alone. There was little point in arguing with teenage logic. She leaned back against the island with a cup of coffee in hand, quietly watching her children. David and Alexander were sixteen, the epitome of a Scott- tall, lean but strong with the build of an athlete. The resemblance between them was close, more the brothers they had been brought up as then the cousins biology regarded them as. Alex looked more like his father with age, his brow, his nose and cheekbones. David had his mother's coloring but looked too much like Nathan to ever disregard his paternity- it was Nathan's looks he had, but it was Lucas's heart he had learned. Anna, clever and pretty with an ivory complexion, dark brown hair and gray eyes, sarcastic and witty- uncanny how like her mother in her younger years she was. Wyatt, quieter and more thoughtful than his namesake, not letting his small build bring him down as he pursued music rather than athletics like his brothers.

"So what's everyone doing after school?"

"I've got practice," Wyatt responded as he got up and took his bowl to the sink.

"I'm going to tryouts," David said, "Coach says I'm almost a shoe-in for varsity this year. Aly too, right?" Basketball. His father's son, alright.

Alex turned to him, hesitating. "Actually, I'm staying after with Mr. Reynolds. He wants to talk to me about my art project."

David stared at him. "Are you serious? You don't want to play this year?"

"Don't feel like it."

David snorted. "Sounds look you took one too many balls to the head."

"David, leave your brother alone," Peyton reprimanded, "He has a right to be interested in other things," she turned her attention to her daughter, "What about you, Anna?"

Anna shrugged, focused on her yogurt and toast. "I'm hanging out with Jamie." Jamie- James Lucas Scott- Haley and Nathan's fifth and final child, living now in Tree Hill with his mother and sister after Hales had finally broken free by divorcing Nathan and taking custody of their children. "We're going to the Rivercourt, maybe the café." Looking up, she caught the eyes of her eldest brother, David's mouth curled into a smirk and gaze twinkling with mischief. "What?" she snapped defensively.

"Hanging out, huh?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

David grinned, leaning back in his chair. "You like him."

"Ew, he's my cousin."

"Not biologically."

"You're sick in the head, David."

Swallowing a mouthful of eggs, Alex commented thoughtfully, "He likes you."

"That's just too weird."

"What's too weird?" their father asked as he stumbled into kitchen, eyes heavy with sleep, hair mussed and bare-chested in his sleep pants.

Wyatt shrugged. "Jamie's got a crush on Anna."

"He does not!!"

Lucas pecked his wife's cheek, murmuring his gratitude as she placed a warm mug of coffee in his hands. "It's a bit odd, but harmless enough."

"What's wrong with you people?! He doesn't have a crush on me! And I don't like him!!"

David smirked, elbowing Alex beside him. "I think the lady doeth protest too much."

"Enough, Davy," his brother responded, pushing back his plate as he rose to his feet, "We got to get going if we want to make it to homeroom."

"Alright." David gulped down his juice, "You driving, or am I?"

"You can." He reached out, ruffling Anna's hair. "See you tonight, kid. Wy, let's go."

"Hold on," Peyton stopped them, all three boys looking back at her with curious eyes, "Will you drop your sister off at the junior high? I have to meet with a client in half hour, and your dad's in no condition to get behind any wheel." The bleary-eyed Lucas regarded her with a sheepish smile, having stayed up most of the night working on his latest book- one due to be his tenth publication.

"Sure," was David's reply as the quartet moved to file out the door.

"Goodbye, Mom, Dad."

"Bye, Mama, Daddy."

"See you."

"Later, Peyton. Dad."

The house fell silent and Lucas set down his mug, slipping his arms around his wife. Peyton turned in his embrace and caught his lips, earning a murmur of contentment from him as he deepened the kiss. She ran her hands through his hair, linking her arms around his neck as he hoisted her up, setting her on the counter. They broke apart, breathless as he regarded her with a lazy grin. "So…do you really have a meeting?"

"Nope. I closed the gallery for the day," She kissed him again, wrapping her legs around his hips, pulling him forward to nestle comfortably between her thighs. "I just haven't been alone with you in weeks."

"Mmm. Alone time is something I'm definitely on board with."

"Then I think we can arrange some."

He smiled against his mouth as they kissed once more, him lifting her to him as they slowly made their way to the bedroom.

Lucas Scott had to admit: his life was pretty damn good.


	16. Info for Reader

**A/N: I had a reader who had several questions about the names and ages of the children in C of F, so I thought I'd post this little thing in case anyone else had the same questions. **

**Haley/Nathan**

Natalie Haley Scott: Born 2006

Lauren Dana Scott: Born 2008

Amy Deborah Scott: Born 2011

Jordan Grace Scott: Born 2013

James Lucas "Jamie" Scott: Born 2014; same year Haley divorces Nathan

**Brooke/Nathan**

David Jonathan Scott: Born 2007; adopted by Lucas

**Lucas/Peyton**

Alexander Gareth Sawyer-Scott: Born 2008

Wyatt Lucas Scott: Born 2010; adopted by Lucas and Peyton in 2014

Anna Elizabeth Scott: Born in 2013; adopted by Lucas and Peyton in 2014


End file.
